An Acquired Taste
by JamiW
Summary: My take on the aftermath of In the Wee Small Hours - BA / MC
1. Chapter 1

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>"Are you sure?"<p>

I glanced up at the bartender, whose skeptical tone served to instantly piss me off, and then I deliberately tapped my empty glass on the bar for a second time.

"Okay, but I'm taking your keys," he stated as he poured me another shot of SoCo.

"Don't be so sanctimonious," I groused. "I'm not a moron."

_Just a bitch_, my mind supplied.

_Volatile and bizarre interrogation techniques…serious doubts about his judgment and his mental stability…_

What the hell was I thinking when I wrote that letter?

I don't know, but I know what I _wasn't_ thinking.

I _wasn't_ thinking that six years later it would come back to bite me in the ass.

I'm also pretty sure I never once considered that six years later I'd be hopelessly in love with the subject of the aforementioned letter.

"I'm just trying to watch out for my customers, okay? So…keys?" the bartender asked me.

"I didn't drive here," I answered. "I'll get a cab home."

Satisfied with my answer, the man moved down the row to take care of the needs of his other customers, and I was once again alone with my thoughts.

This case…it's been brutal.

And sometimes they get like that…sometimes they're baffling or disturbing or downright nightmare-inspiring.

But this one…this one threatened my relationship with my partner.

My _friend_.

Because as much as he claims otherwise, I know my words had to hurt him, and I'm supposed to be the one person who doesn't do that.

Not because we're in some kind of illicit relationship.

We're not.

He has no idea that I'm in love with him…no clue that I think about him inappropriately on a fairly regular basis.

And he's not _going_ to know, because that knowledge wouldn't change anything for us except to make things awkward.

He doesn't think about me that way, and I can accept that, but it also makes our friendship and partnership that much more important since I know it's all we'll ever have.

_How did the defense lawyer get a hold of that letter anyway?_

I felt like blaming Deakins, for letting it leave his sight, or maybe Carver for not warning me ahead of time because surely it had been part of the defense's discovery, but honestly, I can't blame anyone but myself.

Because I'm the one who wrote the damn thing.

And I'm the one who practically broke down in tears while reading it in open court.

And then…and _then_ I had to make excuses for it.

_I was used to working with more conventional detectives. Detective Goren's style is definitely unique and an acquired taste_.

An acquired taste.

What made me say that?

And later, he essentially thanked me.

For withdrawing the letter.

How messed up is that? I basically touted him as a nut job, and _he_ thanked _me_.

_What if we never get past this? _

"It's not a good idea to drink alone."

I turned at the sound of the familiar voice and I watched Carolyn as she pulled off her coat.

"I'm not good company tonight," I warned her. "And how did you know I'd be here anyway?"

"You mentioned once that you come here sometimes after difficult cases," she answered. I mentioned it _once, _weeks ago_. _She's almost as annoyingly smart as Bobby. "And since you weren't at your apartment…"

"You went by my place?"

"I was worried about you."

"I'm fine."

"You're not answering your phone," she said, as if that were evidence of me _not_ being fine.

I let out a heavy sigh, resigning myself to the fact that she wasn't going to go away.

She and I aren't exactly friends, but I think we could be. We're a lot alike, and I _did_ enjoy working this case with her. It was the one bright spot to the whole damn experience, getting to work more closely with her and Logan.

"Sit," I said at last, since she was still standing behind the empty bar stool to my right.

"Are you sure?" she asked, showing the first sign of insecurity.

"You went through the trouble of tracking me down. The least I can do is buy you a drink."

So she sat down on the stool next to me, and I waved over the solicitous bartender.

"Fix her up," I told him.

We didn't talk while he set a clean glass in front of Carolyn and then poured in four fingers of Southern Comfort, but as soon as he moved away again, I turned towards her.

"So what is it?" I questioned.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what made you look for me tonight? And how'd you know I'd be alone? I could be on a date or…or…something," I said, finishing lamely because I was quickly losing steam.

I'm not irritated by the intrusion. In fact, it's kind of sweet that she's worried about me, and maybe I'm long overdue for having a friend. Someone other than Bobby, I mean.

Besides, me on a date…now there's a funny thought.

_When was the last time you were on a date, huh, Eames? _

"You don't date," Carolyn said matter-of-factly. "And I heard about what happened in court."

Her voice was quiet, calm and even, and I was oddly reminded of how well she interrogates suspects, using her tone to lull them into a false sense of security.

And then I had to wonder if she was using it on purpose, in an effort to get information from me.

"I _do_ date," I lied. "And everything's fine with that. Bobby and I talked."

"You did?"

"Yeah, he…he said that…"

I paused, taking a moment to kill the rest of my drink, and then I set the glass down hard as I turned to look at her.

"He said he's lucky I withdrew my request."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Did you talk about it more after that?"

"Why would we?"

"Alex…you know why."

"No, I don't," I said quickly as my heart rate increased.

_What the hell does she mean by that? _

Now it was her turn to finish her drink, causing a forced delay in our conversation, and as I watched her down the amber liquid, my mind was racing in an effort to figure out how she could possibly know.

And I'll admit it.

My mind's in no shape for heavy lifting at the moment.

Three SoCos ago, I might've been alright, but as it stands, I'm working at about half-speed, which puts me at a huge disadvantage when attempting to match wits with Carolyn.

I called to the bartender and ordered another round.

_Maybe if I get her drunk, too, it'll level the playing field_.

"I don't really have any friends," she said softly, her gaze focused on her newly filled glass. "I don't usually stick around in any one place long enough to worry about it."

I nodded but didn't respond, just relieved that the focus of our conversation had shifted from me to her.

Because she'd been encroaching into dangerous territory.

"But I enjoyed working this case with you. And Goren, of course, but I mean, it was kind of fun working with another woman for a change. When we rousted those girls in the bathroom at the club…"

"I thought I was going to crack up when that girl raised her hand to talk," I added, both of us chuckling at the memory.

"Me, too," she agreed, flashing me a smile. "And really, as bad as the whole case was, the work itself was pretty good. It was good for Mike, too, I think. Working closely with Goren some of the time. Those two get along really well."

"I noticed that, too," I agreed.

"I think that says a lot about Goren, getting along even when they had different theories about what happened."

"I was going to say the same thing about Logan. Not a lot of people get Bobby, and it's tough to find others who're willing to work with him, and…"

I trailed off as I realized where I was heading.

_He's an acquired taste._

So was it really so bad for me to say that about him?

I mean, it's not an insult. Or at least that's not how I meant it. It's just that he takes some getting used to.

"Alex?"

"Sorry," I deflected. "So, anyway…you were saying…"

"I guess I just thought that maybe we could be friends," she said after another moment.

She didn't look at me when she said it, and it occurred to me how hard that statement probably was for her to make.

_About as hard as it would've been for me_.

And yet she'd been the one to take that step.

I like her courage.

And like I said, I don't have many friends, either.

In fact, I can count them on one finger.

Bobby.

"Um…okay," I agreed.

"Yeah? Good. So…why don't we get a table and order some food before they have to carry both of us out of here?" she proposed.

So we got a table and we ordered dinner and we talked.

It took us forty-five minutes to get through the preliminary personal background stuff and a couple of burgers.

And then she jumped in with both feet.

"So are you and Goren…"

She didn't finish that thought, but instead just trailed off and looked at me expectantly.

"Are we what?" I asked innocently, even though I knew exactly what she was talking about, and my initial response that nearly popped out was _I wish_.

"Well, he's sexy," she said conspiratorially and I felt an irrational wave of jealousy roll through me.

She thinks he's sexy? So if I tell her that there's nothing between us, will she go after him?

And if I tell her there _is_ something between us, then that'll be a lie…so what if I tell her that I _want_ there to be something?

Then she'll know something about me that could be damaging, both professionally and personally if word got out.

_But the word's not going to get out_, I rationalized.

Carolyn isn't here to set me up. She's not fishing for information so that she can turn around and tell other people in the squad room.

She's here because she wants to be my friend, and she knows I'm in a bad place at the moment and she knows _that_ because she must know how much I care about Goren…otherwise that letter would've been a bump in the partnership road, but that's about it.

It certainly wouldn't have sent me to my favorite I'm-feeling-sorry-for-myself bar.

"Yes, he is," I finally answered, and for some strange reason, I felt my cheeks get red as I said the words.

Probably because it's the first time I've given a voice to my lascivious thoughts.

"Very," she agreed with a smile, and then she waved to our waitress as she winked at me and said, "I think it's time to start on the alcohol again."

I was quiet while she ordered us another round.

I wasn't sure what to say to her, or where this conversation was going, because now I'm suddenly wondering if this whole thing was just an exercise to get inside scoop on Bobby.

But even as I had the thought, I know that's not right. She's not the type to be so underhanded.

"But," she said, picking up our thread again as soon as the waitress left. "He's not as sexy as Mike."

She held my gaze as she said the words, like she was trying to gauge my response.

It was almost a challenge, and now she's waiting to see if I'm ready to walk through that door with her.

And I don't know if it's the SoCo or my lack of girlfriends or just that I'm so tired of keeping my feelings about Bobby a secret…

"I agree that Logan's pretty hot," I said at last. "But he doesn't have anything on Bobby."

She broke into a grin and leaned back in the booth, seemingly relieved that she'd finally cracked my shell.

"So do you want to compare notes?" she asked me.

"On what?" I asked and as she raised her eyebrow at me, it hit me what she meant. "You mean…wait, you've _slept_ with Logan?"

"Are you saying you haven't slept with Goren?"

"No! I mean, _yes_ that's what I'm saying that _no_ I haven't," I managed to say, my brain stuck on the idea of her and Logan like _that_.

I mean, I like Logan. I think he's a great guy, and I really like how well he gets along with Bobby, but I never would've guessed…

"But you want to," Carolyn asserted confidently.

"Just because I said he's sexy?" I replied defensively. "I said that Logan is, too, but that doesn't mean I want to sleep with him."

"Good, because if you go after Mike, you might have a fight on your hands," she said. "Oh, and for the record, there's not a whole hell of a lot of sleeping going on."

The waitress returned to our table, carrying our drinks, and I used the minute of silence to gather my thoughts.

Carolyn. Is having sex. With Logan.

And they're partners.

And no one knows except…me?

"Who else knows?" I asked her after the waitress left.

"About me and Mike? Just you. I guess I figured that I can trust you, since we…you know. Have something in common."

I stared at her blankly, knowing where she was going but unable to openly acknowledge the accuracy of her insinuation.

Or at least, the fact that I _want_ it to be accurate.

But even without a response from me, she pushed forward.

"The fact that we're both in love with our partners," she said in a mock whisper. "And _that_ part Mike doesn't even know."

"I'm not in love with Bobby," I said reflexively.

"You're not," she replied dubiously.

"No…I…we're friends. That's all."

"Huh. Okay," she said with a shrug as she reached for her glass.

"So wait…I need more details. You and Logan…you're…"

"For a few weeks," she answered with a nod. "And I know you don't know me well enough to know, but I've always had this steadfast rule about partners. They're untouchable."

"But?" I asked in amusement.

"Mike is _extremely_ touchable," she said with a smile. "I just couldn't help myself. He might come off as being kind of gruff, but you know, he's really _really_ sweet."

"I can see that," I admitted.

"Yeah?" she asked thoughtfully, and I swear her whole face changed as she started thinking about him, and it made me wonder if that's what I look like when I'm thinking about Bobby.

Probably, which is most likely how she sniffed me out.

"Yeah, at first I thought it would just be for fun, you know?" she continued. "I mean look at him. You _know_ he's good in bed, right?"

"You want me to answer that?" I teased.

"No," she said quickly. "But trust me. He is. But there's also a lot more to him than that, and it's kind of caught me by surprise. I didn't expect to feel like I do."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"I don't know. I get the feeling that love isn't really his thing, and that if I start making confessions, it'll scare him off."

I can understand that.

I'm afraid if I do _anything_ that might change the status quo with Bobby, it'll send him running.

"How has it been at work?" I asked her.

"We don't have sex at work," she joked. "Although there's that one supply closet that's pretty good-sized…"

"You know what I mean," I replied, chuckling at her feigned consideration of defiling the janitor's closet. "Has it felt strange working together?"

"Honestly, we work better together now than we did before. And as much as Mike likes to kid about stuff, he's taking this seriously. We don't cross the line at work."

"And how often do you get together after work?"

"Every night."

Every night?

Huh.

She might not think that Mike's ready to hear about her feelings, but if they're together that much, then he's becoming invested, and I'd bet that he probably feels just as much for her as she does for him.

God, it makes my heart hurt just thinking about it.

I _want_ that.

"So how did you two…I mean, how did it start?"

"You mean the first time we…"

"Uh huh."

"Well, I kind of screwed up. We were working this case, and I used personal history to try to get the suspect to talk, only it wasn't _my_ history, it was Mike's. At the time, I didn't think about how it would make him feel. I mean, I was all about getting a confession, right? But then it turned out to be even worse than I'd expected, and he was definitely hurt by it, and I felt bad. I couldn't stop thinking about it, so I went over to his place that night…it was around two in the morning, and I got him up from the bed, but I just had to apologize and make things right between us."

"Sounds like you gave him one hell of an apology," I joked.

"I apologized _first_," she said on a laugh. "And then we talked. And then…I don't know, it just sort of happened. I grabbed my coat so that I could leave, and he took it from me and held it out for me to put on, and when his hands touched me…oh my God, Alex, it was instant electricity. I've always thought that kind of thing was a load of crap, but it's not. He stood there for a second, with his hands on my shoulders, and he was so close, and you know, it didn't help that he was dressed only in boxers and a t-shirt, and that it'd been a really long time since I had sex, but I suddenly realized that I just had to kiss him."

"So you just did it? You two hadn't talked about anything like that before? Had he given you any indication that he was interested or were you just taking a chance?"

I'm well aware of the fact that my questions aren't going unnoticed.

She knows why I'm asking for so much detail.

But I think I'm past the point of caring.

"Well, Mike's a flirt. You know that. So he's said some things from time to time, but basically, no, I had no idea of how he'd respond, other than how close he stood to me after putting on my coat. And even then…I don't know. Maybe I was just really aware of him, you know what I mean?"

"Uh huh," I agreed with a thoughtful nod.

Because Bobby has trouble with personal space sometimes.

He'll lean over me to look at something on the computer, or sit close to me when we're sifting through paperwork…I'm pretty sure he has no idea how his proximity affects me.

"But that night, I just turned around and grabbed on to the front of his t-shirt and I gave it my best shot."

She proceeded to tell me how neither of them even talked…the first kiss led to a second which led to a third…

"And then we did it right there in the hallway," she finished.

And I'll admit it.

While listening to her, I shamelessly imagined it, only substituting me and Bobby.

"On the floor?" I asked, needing the visual for my fantasy, and she didn't seem to mind the questions. I'll blame our unabashed discussion on the SoCo.

"No, up against the wall," she said, closing her eyes for a moment, undoubtedly reliving it. "And it was so…oh my God. So much better than I expected, and trust me, I had the bar set pretty high."

I stared at her for a moment as she smiled and picked up her glass, and then she looked at me and said, "So you're thinking about going over to Goren's place tonight and apologizing, right?"

I nearly choked on my drink at her insinuation.

As if our night would end up like hers and Mike's.

As if I'd ever find the courage to just…kiss him.

"I already told him that I'm sorry."

"Where? At the courthouse? That doesn't count," she stated. "And you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Hey, if you and Logan are together every night, then why are you out alone tonight?" I asked suddenly, desperate to change the subject.

"Because I told him I was going out to find you," she replied. "He told me to text him when I was done so that he can pick me up. I guess he figured I'd be drinking."

"Smart and sexy. You've got a keeper."

"So do you if you'll get off your ass and go get him."

That's another thing I like about her.

She tells it like it is.

Although what if she's wrong? I mean, it's going to take more than me going after him…he has to _want_ to be caught.

"I'm going to text him now," she continued. "By the time he gets here, it'll be past time for you to go make amends."

"Why are you pushing this?" I asked her, after silently watching her type into her phone.

"I like you. And I like Goren. And I've seen the way you look at each other when you think no one's paying attention."

"We do not," I denied.

"Yes, you do. Both of you," she said pointedly.

"So you're saying you've seen him looking at me."

"A lot," she said with a smile.

She set about offering me specific examples, most of which occurred just in the past few days, when she'd witnessed him checking me out.

Her words served to bolster my confidence a little, but at the same time, the insecure side of me insisted that maybe she was seeing things that aren't there.

Just because _she's_ getting some a regular basis doesn't mean the potential is there for me to do the same.

After a few more minutes, she got a text.

"Mike's here," she said. "You know, we should do this more often. I really enjoyed talking with you."

"Me, too," I agreed.

"Good. And nothing we said here tonight leaves this table."

Her disclaimer should've been meant to cover _her_ ass, but it seems more like she's saying it so that I won't worry about what she might say.

And I'm not.

Oddly enough, I trust her already. Maybe because she so willingly put her trust in me, I don't know.

"Absolutely not," I replied.

She nodded, smiling at me as she said, "Next time we meet for drinks, we'll compare notes. Right?"

"We'll see."

She pulled out some cash for her half of the check and then got up from the table. I watched her walk across the bar to the front door, and when she opened it, I saw Mike standing right outside.

And the look on his face when he saw her…what would it take for Bobby to look at me like that?

_A miracle_, I thought cynically.

Or maybe it'll just take a little courage.

I cashed out and headed for the door, slightly unsteady on my feet, but feeling much more sober than I did a few hours ago when Carolyn showed up.

"A cab, right?" the bartender called out to me.

I nodded at him, but my mind was somewhere else.

What would Bobby say if I showed up at his apartment, unannounced at midnight?

I'm not sure, but as I hailed a cab, I decided that I was about to find out.

Forty minutes later, I'd gleaned new information.

There are fifty-eight steps leading to Bobby's apartment.

Ten out front.

Sixteen per flight, eight going each direction, separated by a four-by-four landing.

Ask me how I know.

_Because I went up and down the entirety of them no less than six times while I debated the intelligence of what I came here to do._

I let the flowery images of love and happiness sway me.

The expression on Carolyn's face when she talked about Mike…the fact that Mike left his apartment at midnight just to make sure that Carolyn got home okay.

Well, not _home_, but back to his place.

But still…if it were just a booty call, he probably would've waited for her to show up. After all, it's not like New York isn't lousy with cabs.

No, he met her because he cares.

Which tells me about _them_, but what about _us_?

Would Bobby do that kind of thing for me?

_I'm not sure there's much Bobby wouldn't do for me._

That thought came unbidden, and yet it's completely true.

At least as far as partners go.

But I'm not just talking about finishing up those 913's, am I?

I'm actually standing here on his second floor landing at…twelve thirty-five…seriously considering knocking on his door so that I can do what Carolyn did to Mike…apologize and then kiss him senseless.

_Alex, you've completely lost your mind_.

I did a one-eighty, intent on going back down the stairs and into the real world where I _don't_ hit on my partner, but something stopped me.

_I need to at least apologize_, I rationalized.

I don't want this hanging over our heads. I mean, we finished out the case just fine, because that's what we do.

We get the job done.

But now that it's over and it's time to move on to the next thing, I can't run the risk of there being any bad feelings between us.

Because I know Bobby…he'll keep it all inside until it eats him up.

And it's eating _me_ up, thinking about how he might feel right now.

Does he know how quickly I withdrew my request?

Does he know that I'd fight tooth and nail to stay with him now?

And that part of the problem in the beginning was _me_, not him?

I was too rigid…too by-the-book…and much too quick to throw in the towel with that hasty letter to Deakins.

I turned around again, marveling at the fact that I haven't fallen down from dizziness, and I went up the stairs.

Eight…then four feet of floor…then eight…then four feet of floor…then eight…for Christ's sake, why didn't I just take the elevator?

I left the stairwell and found myself standing in the fourth-floor hallway.

It was extremely quiet and as I forced my feet to move, my heels made a loud, echoing sound against the linoleum floor.

But the noise still wasn't enough to cover the thundering sound of my heart beat.

_Why am I so nervous about telling him that I'm sorry? _

Because seriously…that's _all_ I'm here to do.

Clear the air and make sure we're okay.

As partners.

There will be _no_ kissing.

I came to a stop in front of his door, and I thought about my earlier conversation with Carolyn.

"_So you're saying you've seen him looking at me," _I asked her_._

"_A lot," _she insisted.

And why would she lie about that?

Why would she set me up for failure?

I don't think she would.

I raised my hand to knock, but then I stopped, taking a moment to run my hands over my hair. Then I smoothed out my blouse as I looked down at myself skeptically.

Black dress pants, black high-heeled boots, white blouse…

_Not exactly the image of seduction, Alex_.

Although…

I reached up and undid one button in an effort to make my outfit look slightly less professional…and slightly more feminine.

I debated undoing one more, maybe just to see if he'd notice, but decided against it because the possibility that he might _not_ notice was too much for me to handle.

Instead, I simply took a deep breath and then I knocked on the door.

**TBC...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Bobby POV (mostly concurrent timeline with previous chapter)**

* * *

><p>I'm an acquired taste.<p>

Meaning…what, exactly?

That given enough time I suddenly become palatable?

Maybe.

Is six years enough time?

I'm not sure.

I _do_ know that Eames was upset while reading that letter aloud.

And I felt bad for her.

It's nothing new for me, hearing those words.

That kind of thing has followed me my whole life.

What bothers me is learning how close I was to losing her.

As a partner, I mean.

Because I had no idea.

And if I didn't know _then_ and yet it was imminent, then how would I know _now_?

What's to stop her from writing another letter? I might not know about it until I show up at 1PP and find someone new sitting at the desk across from me.

And as much as it would've bothered me back then, if it happened now, I have no idea what I'd do.

Because I'd be completely devastated.

After the courtroom incident, we worked diligently to finish up the Garrett case and things felt somewhat normal, but I could tell she was walking on eggshells.

Because she thinks I'm upset with her.

And I guess I am, but I don't want to talk about it. If we get into _that_ conversation, I'm not sure what I'll say, because I think I'm upset for a different reason than _she_ thinks.

At quitting time, she quickly reached for her jacket.

"So…I'll see you Monday, okay?" she said cautiously.

And I'm not sure what I'd been expecting, but _something_.

It's not my style to want to talk about things and analyze them…okay, so maybe it _is_ my style, but only when it comes to a case. I don't like talking about my emotions or personal feelings, things like that.

But I thought that Eames would.

Instead, it seemed like she couldn't get away from me fast enough.

And as I stood there, watching her walk away from me, my mind started racing.

_Is there another letter sitting in Deakins' inbox? _

_Is that why she's afraid to talk to me?_

"Hey, Goren, you okay?"

At the sound of Logan's voice, I realized I was staring at the empty hallway, the place where Eames had been moments ago.

"I'm fine," I answered.

"You sure? Because I'm going to grab a beer later, so if you're interested…"

Which is how, a couple of hours later, I found myself sitting on a bar stool next to Logan.

"What a case, huh?" he remarked. "That whole family is twisted."

"Uh huh," I agreed. "Egotistical dad raised an attention-starved son."

"And don't forget the jealous mouse of a wife. You know, if she'd just left him years ago, none of this would've happened. Ethan might've turned out normal."

"It's easier said than done," I mused. At his raised eyebrow, I added, "Leaving. You know, even if you know the relationship's bad for you, sometimes it's still tough to call it quits."

_Is that Eames? _

_Does she want to go, but can't make herself sever the ties?_

"Goren?"

"What?"

"I asked you if everything's alright. You look a little…I don't know. More brooding than usual."

"You're the one who invited me out. If you don't want to be here, then go," I replied gruffly.

"I'm not saying that," he said firmly. "I'm asking if you want to talk about it."

"Talk about what?"

"Eames and that letter."

Ah.

Good news travels fast.

"What's there to talk about? She nearly ditched me. Then she changed her mind."

I kept my gaze focused on my beer, but I could feel his eyes on me and it was obvious that my forced nonchalance wasn't fooling him.

"What'd she say about it?"

"She said she was sorry for not telling me."

"That's it?"

"She doesn't owe me anything else."

Logan sighed heavily and then called to the bartender for another round.

"She's not going anywhere," he said after another minute.

"I know that."

"No, you don't. You're sitting there, wondering about the next time she writes a letter like that, what'll happen if she doesn't retract it. But there isn't going to _be_ a next time. And you know that."

"All I know is that it could've been over before it ever really started, and I never saw it coming."

"Because it _didn't_ come…it didn't happen…you know how it is when you're first getting used to a partner. Sometimes it takes a while to work out the kinks. It's like sex."

"It's like what?" I asked in surprise, finally turning my head to look at him and finding him grinning at me.

"Sex," he repeated. "Some woman like it one way, and some like it another. It might take a few rolls in the sack before you find the rhythm that works for both of you, you know what I'm saying?"

"Maybe."

"With Eames, she had a brief moment of weakness before she decided to jump back into bed with you for another try, and then it clicked and boom…here you are, six years later, banging away like pros."

Only Logan would use sex as an analogy for my current situation.

But it worked, because I found my mood lightening and yeah, it's probably partly due to the intriguing picture he painted, but still…he's right.

Can I blame her for not being sure about me from the start? I wasn't exactly easy to work with.

And at that point, I hadn't earned her trust yet.

Now, I have.

And she'd never blindside me with something like that. Even if she _does_ suddenly decide to leave, I know she'd talk to me about if first, because that's who we are _now_.

I took in a deep breath as my muscles began to unclench and my brain started to clear.

_She's not leaving me_, I thought with renewed conviction.

"So how are you and Barek doing?" I asked Logan, fully relaxing as I picked up my glass. "Banging away like pros yet?"

He barked out a laugh and started to say something, but then took a sip of his drink instead.

I kept watching him until he turned to look at me.

"We're doing alright," he said ambiguously.

"You've learned her rhythm? Is it hard and fast? No, wait…I bet she's a slow burn kind of girl, right?" I continued, having fun throwing his analogy back at him.

But he didn't respond at all, and it made me suspicious.

"Logan?"

"What?"

"What's going on with you and Barek?"

"She's my partner."

"And?"

"And what? Eames is your partner. You like it when people assume there's something more going on just because you work with a good-looking woman?"

His comment had my mind going in different directions.

First off, I'm not sure I like it that he's noticed Eames' attractiveness.

And secondly...well, I _am_ sure I don't like it. What's he doing looking at her like that?

"There's nothing going on between me and Eames."

"That's not what I asked," he replied, and now it was his turn to look at me curiously.

"Wait, how did we get onto us?" I deflected. "I was asking about you and Barek."

He regarded me carefully without saying a word and then he turned back towards the bar, picking up his glass and finishing off the remaining liquid.

"I might've done a really stupid thing," he said at last.

And then I thought I had it figured out.

He must've hit on her…or propositioned her…something.

And she must've said no.

And now…what?

Now their partnership is on the skids?

Is this a cautionary tale, warning me away from the fantasy that Eames and I might ever be more than we are?

"Just tell her you're sorry," I said. "She's a reasonable woman. You two can work it out."

"Tell her I'm sorry?" he asked in confusion.

"Wait, are we talking about the same thing here?"

"I'm gonna say no," he said with a rueful smile. Then he dropped his voice and said, "We're sleeping together. Me and Carolyn. For a few weeks now."

I wasn't sure which part has me more surprised.

That he and Barek are having sex.

That it's been going on for weeks.

That I didn't guess it beforehand.

"And it's not…working?" I asked him.

"It's working great. She's…wow. I mean you know how great she is to work with, and I'm telling you, she's even better when…"

"I don't need details," I interrupted.

"I'm not talking about sex," he said quickly. "I'm talking about…just…when we're not at work. When we're hanging out in my apartment or having dinner together or…whatever. She's incredible."

Hearing him talk about it, about spending time with Barek in their off-hours, made me think about Eames. And the things we do and don't do in our off-hours.

And yet his earlier declaration still had me nervous.

It was stupid for him to pursue a relationship with her because…it's making things difficult at work?

I have to know.

"This stupid thing…is it because you're having trouble working together?"

"No," he said, acting like my suggestion was the craziest thing in the world. "Are you listening to me? She's the whole package. And we've been able to separate work from _not_ work, and it's…it's been the best few weeks of my life."

"Then what's the problem?"

"It's supposed to be about sex."

"And it isn't?" I asked him, somewhat confused.

And yeah, I'll admit it.

Maybe I'm not paying as much attention to him as I should be. I mean, I _am_, but I keep somehow replacing him and Barek with me and Eames, trying to picture how it might work if she and I were to somehow become more than partners.

"Goren…it's…this is between us, right?"

"Who would I tell?"

"Eames," he answered immediately.

"I won't," I promised.

He nodded at me slowly and then dropped his gaze self-consciously as he said, "I'm in love with her. So…stupid, right?"

"No," I argued. "But…are you sure?"

"I think about her all the time," he said quietly. "I want to be with her _all_ the time. Like tonight, she's out with Eames, and I…"

"She's out with Eames?" I interrupted. "Where?"

"Hey, we're working on me right now," he said, but then he laughed as he shook his head. "Never mind. We'll come back to me. I think maybe we need to talk about you and Eames."

"There's nothing to talk about. We're good. So are you going to tell Barek how you feel?"

"And have her politely say no thank you? No. I'm hoping maybe it'll go away. Let's face it. Women don't hook up with me for love."

"Barek doesn't seem like the type to mix business with pleasure," I countered. "I can't imagine she'd have trouble finding a bedmate, so if she picked you, it's probably for good reason. I think maybe you're underestimating her."

We were both quiet for a few minutes, with him surely thinking about what to say or not say to Barek, and with me pondering the situation as a whole.

They've been seeing each other, _intimately_, for weeks and I had no idea.

No one has any idea, which means their professionalism prevailed.

Which means…what?

That I have an example to offer Eames if I ever get up the nerve to tell her how I feel?

"_Logan and Barek did it, so why can't we?"_

Real mature, Goren.

Besides, Barek was obviously receptive to Logan's advances, and I have no idea whether or not Eames would be open to mine.

She's never really shown me any sign of interest, other than her steadfast commitment to standing by my side.

Well, with the exception of the time she wrote the letter. But like Logan said, that was in the beginning.

And we're banging like pros now, right?

"What if I tell her and it messes us up?" Logan asked me. "Once it's out there, you can't take it back."

My thoughts exactly.

And yet I think I know the answer.

"If you feel it, then it's there whether you say it or not. Holding back is only going to prolong the inevitable. Either it'll work or it won't. And it doesn't have to ruin things, even if she doesn't feel the same. I mean, she liked you enough to say yes when you propositioned her, right?"

"Actually, she came on to me," he said, his grin broadening as he straightened up in his chair. "She showed up at my apartment in the middle of the night, after we'd had a disagreement on a case. We talked and got things straight, and she was getting ready to leave, when out of nowhere, she just kissed me."

He continued smiling as he reached for his glass, letting his words hang in the air for a minute.

I pondered that, picturing quiet and reserved Barek suddenly making a move on him…and then I tried to imagine Eames doing that same thing.

She'd have to go up on her toes…and I'd still have to lean down…of course, we're about the same difference in height as Logan and Barek, so it's not like it isn't doable.

But then what next?

What kind of awkwardness might ensue after that first kiss?

"Then what?" I asked him, because it's suddenly really important for me to know. "Did you ask her on a date or something? Or did you talk about how to go forward?"

"After the kiss? Oh. Um…no. We just…you know," he said, tipping his head briefly to the side as he raised his eyebrows.

"That same night?"

"Within about ten minutes," he answered. "And then again a couple of hours later. You know, what's with all the questions, Goren?"

"What? Nothing. I'm just…you know, it's weird thinking about you and Barek like that."

"Well then don't think about it. I wasn't trying to give you whack-off material."

"Ha ha," I retorted defensively. "I think you're the one who started this conversation, right?"

"I didn't know you'd be hitting me up for the playbook."

And that's exactly what I've been doing, but I'm never going to admit it because I have no idea if I'll ever actually get up the nerve to try it out.

He continued to stare at me inquisitively as he asked, "So what gives?"

"Nothing. I'm…I'm happy for you. And I think you should tell her. I bet you'll be surprised by her response."

"Huh. Funny. I was going to say the exact same thing to you."

And I don't know what he thinks he knows about my feelings for Eames. I've certainly never admitted them out loud to anyone, ever.

And I had every intention of keeping it that way.

But Logan got me thinking.

Even after I paid my tab and went home to my empty apartment, I was still thinking.

About Eames.

And how much I like spending time with her.

And how lately, I can't help but notice exactly what she's wearing and how she smells and how she smiles at my silly jokes when she thinks I'm not looking and how she says the funniest one-liners at the most unexpected times…

_I need to call her and make sure that everything's right between us._

I went into the kitchen and found my cell phone on the counter, next to my badge and gun, but as I picked it up, I remembered the other thing Logan had said.

Barek and Eames went out tonight.

I didn't realize they were _that_ kind of friends.

Although I think it's a good thing. I worry from time to time that Eames doesn't have any kind of life because I demand so much of her time, but having a friend like Barek, someone who's very similar in personality and job commitment…it'll be good for her.

But I can't call her while she's out.

I carried the phone with me back into the living room as I pondered what time would be a good time, and then I wondered what the two of them might talk about.

Was Barek telling her about her relationship with Logan?

Probably.

What would Eames say to that?

And then I thought about her face on the stand as she read aloud that letter.

Her voice had cracked, and she'd fidgeted uncharacteristically, clearly extremely uncomfortable with the situation.

Which part was most upsetting to her? The words themselves? Or the fact that she'd wanted to leave me?

I let my eyes fall closed as I continued through the recap, only I altered the reality as I drifted towards sleep.

This time, we weren't in the courthouse lobby.

We were in the car, parked along the curb out front.

"_Bobby, I'm sorry. I should've told you_," she said, looking at me with sad eyes as she reached out to touch my face.

"_I __**am **__an acquired taste. I'm lucky you withdrew your letter."_

"_No, I'm the lucky one. I can't imagine my what my life would be like without you in it_."

And then she leaned over and kissed me, just a light graze of her lips against mine, and yet it instantly set me on fire and I had to have more.

I put my arms around her, pulling her as close as I could within the confines of the vehicle, and I kissed her hard, trying to show her just exactly how I feel about her.

To my amazement, she returned the kiss, just as enthusiastically, and as we sat together in the front of the car, with her chest pressed against mine and our lips fused together, someone knocked on the window.

But we didn't stop.

Because I can't let her go. I can't ever let her go.

The knocking persisted, and it was breaking my concentration and I wanted to shout at the intruder, to tell him to just go the hell away, and then as the rapping gave way to pounding, my eyes flew open as I sat up straight in the chair.

And then I had to breathe for just as second because wow…that was such a perfect dream.

I would swear I can still feel her lips against mine, and I had to take another minute to breathe and then I finally got to my feet and made my way to the door.

"Who is it?" I called out roughly, wondering what might have happened next in that dream, and even more curious to find out if I can manage to slip back into it as soon as I ditch the annoying person outside my door.

"Eames."

Oh.

I stopped in my tracks three feet from the door.

Am I still dreaming?

I looked at the clock.

Twelve-fifty.

I glanced down at myself.

Sweatpants and a t-shirt.

Is this what I'd be wearing in a dream?

"If you're not going to open up, just say so," she called out, sounding slightly annoyed.

_I'm awake. _

Dream Eames would've said something seductive.

Trust me, I know. I've been dreaming about her for years.

"I'm coming," I assured her, and then I walked over to the door and undid the locks, but after opening the door, I wasn't so sure.

Because she's looked like this in my dreams before.

Dressed for work and yet…not.

Hair slightly tousled, blouse undone a little lower than usual, cheeks flushed.

"Am I waking you?" she asked, the irritation from a moment ago completely gone from her voice.

"No. I…um...yeah, sort of. I think I fell asleep in the recliner."

"I'm sorry. I know it's late, but can I come in?"

"Yeah, sure," I agreed immediately, stepping back to let her inside.

And I felt like a heel for doing it, but I couldn't help it – not only did I check out her cleavage as she walked towards me, but I also looked at her ass after she walked past.

_And if this isn't a dream, and she catches me, I'm going to be toast._

I closed the door and redid the locks and then turned around to find that she'd wandered into the living room.

Not that I mind.

Eames is always welcome here, and she's spent a considerable amount of time on my couch.

Looking at case files, of course, but still…I like that she seems comfortable here.

"Can I get you something?" I offered.

"I could probably use a glass of water," she replied.

So I went into the kitchen and turned on the faucet, cupping my hands beneath it so that I could splash some cold water on my face. That helped a little, so then I got out a glass, filling it with water before heading back to the living room.

"Thanks," she said simply as she took the glass from my hand.

I watched her as she drank it all, my eyes roaming over her purposefully while Logan's words rang out in my head.

_She showed up at my apartment in the middle of the night…_

"Sorry," she said self-consciously as she set the empty glass down on a coaster. "Carolyn and I were drinking earlier and I…"

Then she stopped talking and turned towards me, seeming to steel herself for what more she was about to say.

"Bobby, I'm sorry about that letter. It was an impulsive reaction to what was probably a normal adjustment period for us as new partners, and…"

"It's okay," I interrupted, because she looked like she was getting upset again and the last thing in the world I want is for her to cry, especially not because of me.

"It's not okay. And what I said…I didn't know you _then_, and I had no business making that kind of assessment about you, and…"

"Eames," I said, stopping her again as her eyes filled with tears. "Just promise me one thing."

She nodded as she worked to get her emotions under control, and I had to step closer to her because I absolutely had to touch her, and I don't know why, other than because she looks so vulnerable and sad and…and…beautiful.

But I wasn't sure where to touch her because her hands were down at her sides, and as I got closer, she suddenly seems so small and I felt like the weight of my hand might be too much for her.

But I did it anyway, because this is Eames, and she's so much stronger than she looks. I know that for a fact.

I put my hand on her shoulder and I could feel the delicate bones beneath the heated skin and the thin material and since she didn't flinch or make any move to back away, I didn't stop there. I moved it over until it covered the crook of her neck, with half of my hand still on her blouse and the other half now touching the skin of her throat.

Her eyes widened slightly, but she continued to stand her ground, watching me closely as I eased even closer until our bodies were nearly touching, but not quite, and she had to tip her head back in order to maintain eye contact.

I almost lost track of what I wanted to say, the nearness of her creating a tantalizing distraction, but I stayed on point because it's too important…I have to say the words.

"Promise me that if you ever decide that you want another partner, you'll talk to me about it first. Not so that I can talk you out of it, but just so that I'll know, okay?"

"I'm never going to want another partner," she responded quietly, her eyes unwavering from mine.

"You say that now, but please…"

"I promise."

And then she fidgeted slightly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, and then she nervously licked her lips.

I don't think it was an intentional act meant to tease, but it did, and I wanted to slide my hand into her hair, or maybe even slip it down inside of her blouse that was open just enough to taunt me.

_But we don't do that_, I reminded myself. _Because we're partners._

And then I heard Logan again.

"_We talked and got things straight, and she was getting ready to leave, when out of nowhere, she just kissed me."_

"Are we okay?" she asked me, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"I think…we're probably better than we've ever been."

"Are you sure? Because I feel like…I don't know. Like maybe I lost some of your trust."

"You haven't. Like you said, that letter was written before you knew me. At the time, we were just getting started. It doesn't change how I feel about you now, or how I think you feel about me."

Wow, I didn't exactly mean to open _that_ door.

I mean, I want to and yet at the same time, I can't remember the last time I was this afraid.

_It's such a huge risk – she's everything to me._

"And how is that?" she asked. "How do you think I feel about you?"

Without forethought, I started stroking my thumb over the edge of her jaw, and I felt her lean slightly into my touch.

"I'm not sure exactly," I admitted. Then I smirked and said playfully, "But I know you don't think I'm bizarre or volatile, and I'm pretty sure you don't question my mental stability."

She smiled then, letting out a small laugh as her entire body seemed to relax at my words.

"I never said that _you're_ bizarre. Only your interrogation technique."

"Point taken," I agreed. "Although you also said that I'm an acquired taste."

"Which you conceded."

"True," I said with a nod.

And it's crazy that we're still standing here just looking at each other, and I want to make some kind of move so badly and yet I think it has to come from her or else I'll always wonder if she's simply trying to make me happy.

So I waited.

Sort of.

I did trace my fingers along the edge of her ear, under the guise of pushing her hair back, and then I asked her, "So have you?"

"Have I what?"

"Have you acquired a taste…for me?"

I didn't breathe at all while I waited for her response, but fortunately for me, it didn't take her long.

She brought her hands up to my chest, her fingers clenching the fabric, and then she slowly rose up on her toes, keeping those luminous golden eyes locked on mine.

And then, as her lips hovered near mine, she said, "I think I have, yes. Let's find out for sure."

**TBC...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>I'm weak.<p>

It's the only explanation.

Because how many times did I tell myself that there would be no kissing?

Plenty.

And yet as soon as he opened the door, I could feel my resolve crumbling because he looked so incredibly cute and masculine, not to mention that the way he was looking at _me _created a whole series of tingling sensations in my stomach.

The next few moments were a haze of formalities and yet there was nothing formal at all about the way his eyes strayed to my chest, making me wish I'd gone for broke and unbuttoned that next button.

He invited me inside and I walked in on autopilot, now completely terrified of what I might do.

"_Can I get you something?"_ he offered.

"_I could probably use a glass of water,"_ I replied, and yes, I _was_ thirsty, probably after so many trips up and down his stairs, but mostly I felt like I just needed a minute alone, _not_ looking at his bare feet or the way his sweatpants hug his backside.

Because I did _not_ come here to kiss him.

But that's what happened.

After coming back with the glass of water, we quickly got to the heart of the issue.

Or at least, the obvious issue.

The letter.

"_Bobby, I'm sorry about that letter. It was an impulsive reaction to what was probably a normal adjustment period for us as new partners, and…"_

That's when I learned that he wasn't upset about what I _said_.

He was upset about what I _did_.

I planned to leave him, and I never said a word.

And even though at the time we didn't have the connection that we do now, I can understand how that's left him feeling a little insecure.

Although not but _so_ insecure because as he stood in front of me, asking for a promise that I'll never walk away from him without discussing it with him first…as he made the request, he did something he's never done.

He touched me.

And yeah, okay, so he _has_ touched me before…our arms have brushed while sitting at a conference table, or our hands grazed when transferring an object from one to the other.

But this time, the touch was deliberate and borderline intimate as his hand slid from my shoulder to the side of my neck.

And as his hand, large and warm, settled against me, he moved closer to me, standing so close that I could smell the lingering scent of the aftershave he used this morning and I had trouble maintaining eye contact because I wanted to look him over and yet at the same time, I never wanted to look away from the emotion I saw in his eyes.

"_Promise me that if you ever decide that you want another partner, you'll talk to me about it first. Not so that I can talk you out of it, but just so that I'll know, okay?" _he asked me.

"_I'm never going to want another partner,"_ I assured him, and mentally, I amended that to say _I'm never going to want another __**man**_.

Because I won't.

I only want him.

And it was about that time when I realized that I wasn't leaving his apartment without kissing him.

And that insight into my own intentions brought with it a wave of nervousness.

Butterflies filled my stomach and a buzzing sound hummed in my brain and I'm actually kind of proud of myself for being able to continue the conversation.

Because I know that setting things right between us as partners and as friends has to come first and yet my mind kept straying to the possibilities of what would happen after I made my move.

That move that I just made moments ago, after he asked me if I've acquired a taste for him.

Talk about a loaded question.

It was too good an opportunity to pass up.

So I didn't.

I put my hands on his chest, and then I grabbed hold of his shirt because I didn't want there to be any misunderstanding.

It would be just like Bobby to worry that he was crowding me, and think that my gesture was meant to push him away, so I captured a handful of t-shirt in each hand, holding him in place, and then – _damn my short stature_ – I went up on my toes in an effort to negate our ridiculous height difference.

Every move I made was slow and deliberate, just in case he wanted to stop me, but he didn't.

He kept his gaze on mine as I brought my lips close to his and then I said, "_I think I have, yes. Let's find out for sure."_

I hesitated for one more second because…well, because I was still afraid he wouldn't reciprocate.

But then I did it.

I pressed my lips against his, and for a second, that was all there was to it.

Just the two of us, standing there, joined at the mouths, but not moving.

When nothing more happened, I pulled back slightly, unsure of what to do next, because here we are, right here in the middle of this state of awkwardness that I've been so worried about.

Do I try it again?

Do I back away and apologize profusely before making a break for the door?

_Carolyn never mentioned anything about uncomfortable pauses or uncertainties._

Do we _not_ have the kind of spark and intensity that she and Logan have?

But as I stood there, caught in a moment of suspended time, he adjusted his hold on me, sliding his hand around to the back of my head as he said in a tone that sounded something like a growl, "We need to try that again."

I let go of his shirt, choosing instead to wrap my arms around him because I want to be closer…_need_ to be closer…and he was apparently reading my mind because at the same time, he put his other hand on the small of my back, hugging me impossibly close as he once again brought his lips to mine.

And that's when the dam broke.

There was no hesitation…no tentative touching of lips.

Instead it was heady and passionate and I most definitely shouldn't have worried that we might be lacking intensity because _oh my God_ the man knows how to kiss.

I blocked out everything except the taste of him and the feel of his tongue teasing mine…his hand on my back that held me securely against him and the arousing back-and-forth rhythm of give-and-take as we delved into this new territory…it was incredible, and my insides were on fire and I never wanted it to end.

But I guess we're not _completely_ on the same wavelength yet because as I had that thought, he pulled away.

But just barely.

"We…um…we…" he began, and he was a little out of breath and his gaze kept venturing to my mouth and he didn't relax his hold on me at all so I could still feel his strong body plastered against mine.

I waited for him to gather his thoughts because he doesn't seem to be in any hurry to let me go, and I'm absolutely not in a rush to go anywhere.

He exhaled deeply and then flashed me a self-conscious smile as he said, "I'm sorry. You…um…you…"

"You're going to have to throw a few verbs in there if you want me to figure out what you're trying to say," I teased, feeling suddenly elated by the confirmation that he didn't stop things because he wants to end it.

He stopped because he has something he thinks he needs to say.

Probably some sort of self-deprecating disclaimer.

"Should we talk about this?" he finally managed.

"Um…okay," I replied, even though talking was the furthest thing from my mind.

"Not that I'd _rather_ talk," he added as he slowly relaxed his hold on me. "I just don't want to…mess this up. I don't want to mess _us_ up."

I nodded as I took a step back from him, mourning the loss of the feel of him, because even though I'd only spent a few minutes up against him, it was already my new favorite place to be.

Because he's got a really nice body.

And I'm not going to lie.

I'm having a hard time concentrating because all I can think about is what he might be wearing under those sweatpants.

Something?

Nothing?

"Let's sit down," he suggested, taking another deep breath as he turned to gesture towards the couch.

I like that he seems affected by our kiss.

Otherwise, I might be worried that this talking bit is just his nice way of trying to let me down easy, but I don't believe that for a second.

And I also _really_ don't feel like talking.

But sitting on the couch might be a good idea because it'll keep me from having to stand on my toes while I'm kissing him.

I paused for a moment, stopping to take off my boots while he sat down on the center cushion of the sofa. As I unzipped the second boot, I felt his eyes on me, and the heat of his stare gave me a sense of self-assurance.

He really wants me.

Maybe as much as I want him.

_Carolyn was right…_

I tossed the boot to the floor along with its mate and then I stepped up in front of him, hesitating for just the slightest moment before making my move.

And then I straddled his lap.

I didn't get too close. I kept my butt back on his thighs, and trust me, that was a show of great restraint because now that he's sitting, the bulge in his sweatpants is blatantly obvious and I'd like nothing more than to feel him against me, but I don't want to rush it. Or at least not too much.

"Is this okay?" I asked him, and then I started rambling as a result of my self-consciousness of the bold move. "It puts us eye to eye, because even sitting, you're still so much taller, and…"

"It's perfect," he interrupted, resting his hands on my thighs. Then his eyes softened and he reached one hand up to touch me on the cheek. "This whole thing is perfect. _Unexpected_, but perfect."

"Unexpected…so you really didn't know?" I asked him.

"I'm surprised you've stayed with me as a partner, so why would I guess that you'd want me as anything more?"

Ouch.

That damn letter…

I stiffened slightly, an involuntary response to his remark, but he quickly elaborated.

"Wait, I don't mean…I'm not talking about the letter. Even before I knew about that, I was always afraid you'd get tired of me. I'm an acquired taste, right? Which means I'm difficult, at best."

"And I think we've established the fact that I've developed a taste for you," I assured him. "Years ago, in fact. I was just waiting for…I don't know what. Nothing really. Because I never thought anything would ever happen between us…I just assumed that you like things the way they are."

"I do," he agreed. "But that doesn't mean I wouldn't like it even more if things were…like this."

As he said the words, he moved his hands to my hips and pulled me closer until I could feel him _right_ there and the shot of arousal that rolled through me nearly had me uttering a moan, but instead I leaned down and kissed him hard, wanting him to get an idea of how much I want him.

Desperately.

Strange, maybe, considering how long I've been holding back.

I mean, I've been wanting him for a few years now and yet I've kept my desire hidden.

Or mostly hidden anyway. I guess Carolyn noticed, but no one else did, not even Bobby.

And yet now…now that I've kissed him, I don't want to stop until I have him naked under me. Or over me. Or behind me.

And yeah, it's been a long time since I've had sex, so maybe the feelings are intensified because of that, but I don't think so. I think it's just that it's Bobby and I've wanted him for so long and he feels so good.

"Are we…done talking?" he asked me after reluctantly breaking off our kiss.

His eyes were dark and his fingers were lightly clenching and unclenching where they rested on my hips and my excitement increased as I realized that he's just barely hanging on to his control.

"Is there something more that needs to be said?" I asked as I ran my hands over his chest.

My intent with the question was to be playful, because as far as I'm concerned, the fact that we've been kissing for an indeterminate amount of time and that I'm currently sitting on his lap, pressing against his erection…those things tell me that we're pretty much on the same page.

But Bobby didn't smile, and it made me wonder what he was thinking.

He continued watching me intently for a minute longer and then he said simply, "I'm afraid of losing you."

"Bobby, I promised, remember? I'm not going anywhere."

"No, I mean, if we do this…try our hand at being more than friends, and then it doesn't work…"

"It'll work."

"You don't know that. And…listening to you read that letter, it made me think about what I would do without you, and…I don't know the answer to that. You're such a huge part of my life."

I guess it's good that we're getting this out in the open. Even though I apologized and he said we're fine, it's not always that simple. Hurt feelings and insecurities don't just disappear.

"Me, reading that letter, made me think about the same thing," I told him, moving my hand up to stroke over his stubbled cheek. "What would I do without you? I have no idea. And it scares me to know that I almost made such a colossal mistake as walking away from you. So trust me when I tell you that it's never going to happen."

He nodded, closing his eyes briefly as I continued to rub my thumb against his cheek.

"Even if I break your heart?" he asked quietly and he looked so vulnerable and unsure that my heart nearly _did_ break.

"You would never do that."

"How can you be so sure? I'm really not very good at cultivating a relationship."

"But see, you already are. We already have one," I reminded him. "I don't see how adding physical affection into the equation is going to do anything but make us better."

I leaned in and kissed him, not in the impassioned way from minutes ago, but gently, letting my lips linger against his for a long moment, and then I forced myself to pull back.

"But," I continued, working hard to make my voice sound strong because if he takes the out I'm about to offer, it's going to crush me. But I don't want him to know that. "If this isn't what you want, we haven't come too far…we can back off now, no harm done. I'll go home and we'll show up on Monday at work and things will be good."

He nodded thoughtfully, and for one heart-wrenching minute, I thought he was going to tell me that he thinks that'll be best.

And I can't entirely blame him.

I mean, it _is_ a huge risk.

Not only in the sense that we'll be breaking departmental rules, but also because we'll be trusting ourselves to act like mature adults if the relationship _doesn't_ work in order to preserve the partnership.

As I sat motionless, watching his handsome face as he pondered our situation, he moved his hands from my hips up to my breasts, gently cupping them, causing me to inhale sharply at the sensation of his surprisingly intimate touch.

He slowly broke into a smile as he said, "I think we've come too far now."

"Bobby," I replied, putting my hands over top of his, but only to still them, not move them away because oh my God it feels good, the sensations his touch creates.

Even through the two layers of material I can still feel the heat of his skin and I can just imagine what it'll feel like if we ever get rid of these clothes, but still…

"I need you to be sure," I told him.

"I'm sure," he responded immediately. "You mean so much to me and I'm worried about screwing this up, but at the same time, I'm not going to let my fear deny us the chance of having what I think we both want."

I dropped my hands away from his and he ran his hands over my chest for a moment and then slid them upwards to cup my face as he brought me down for another scorching kiss.

And how is it possible that this keeps getting better?

I feel like I'm about to burst into flames at any moment.

I shifted my hips against his, putting pressure on the hard length of him, and he abruptly broke off the kiss, leaning his head back against the couch and biting his lip.

I repeated the motion as I kissed a path over his throat, and I'll admit it. It gives me such a rush to know that I can do this to him.

That I can make him fight with his self-control.

I can't help but wonder what it'll take to make him lose it.

I rocked against him a third time while sliding my tongue over the edge of his ear, and that's when things got frantic.

He clamped his hands down on my hips, indicating a need for me to keep still, and then he let go and started unbuttoning my blouse.

His normally-adept fingers fumbled over the buttons and I could see his hands shaking and I love that he's just as nervous and excited about this as I am, although I'm also having to hold back from pushing his hands away so that I can undo the buttons myself because I can't wait to feel his hands on my bare skin.

He finally freed the last one and then he paused, his eyes meeting mine for a moment while he held the two sides together, and I find myself loving _that_ too…the fact that he recognizes the enormity of the line we're crossing.

With his hands still clutching my blouse, he kissed me again, a slow tease that filled me with restless need, and then with his lips still on mine, he pushed back the two sides of my blouse. It was still on my shoulders, only now it's gaping open, and he immediately began stroking his hands over my skin.

And it feels every bit as good as I expected only it still isn't enough.

I need to feel his skin, too.

Reading my mind as only Bobby can do, he paused in his explorations just long enough to pull off his t-shirt, and then his hands slipped beneath the back my blouse as he hugged me to him, pressing my chest against his.

I pushed my hips downward again and I'm not sure how it's possible but he feels even bigger, even harder than before, and so I have to do it again, and the action elicited a moan from him that has me closer to coming than I've been in years.

Other than during solo efforts, I mean. And even though during most of those I was picturing Bobby, it's still not quite the same as this.

"We…um…we need to stop," he said after a few more minutes, his lips still moving over my neck and his hands once again caressing my breasts, only this time there's only the thin satin of my bra between us.

I exhaled heavily and then smirked at the fact that despite his words, he wasn't stopping.

Of course, I'm not either.

I've been running my fingers across the expanse of his chest, gradually moving in a downward track.

"I don't want to," he said between kisses. "But…we shouldn't rush it. Right?"

"You think we're rushing it?" I asked as I touched the waistband of his sweatpants.

He inhaled sharply and his lips and hands faltered momentarily.

Taking in a deep, shaky breath, he sat back and captured my hands in his as he brought his eyes to mine.

"I don't want to cheat you out of the romance. If we're going to start dating, then I should take you out on a real date, right?"

"We can do that," I agreed.

"Good. Okay. So maybe we should slow down and…let it happen when it happens."

"I think it _was_ happening," I teased. "But I get your point."

"Are you sure? I don't want you to think that I don't want you. I really, really, _really_ do."

"Really?" I asked jokingly.

"Really," he said, finally smiling at me.

"Me, too," I replied. I kissed him again, but this time kept it light and then I sat back and started buttoning my shirt. "So when are you taking me out on this date?"

"Are you free tomorrow night?"

"I'll have to check with my partner. He likes to work these crazy hours."

He chuckled at me and then reached out and put his hand on the side of my neck again, like he did when I first got here.

"I'm glad you came over tonight."

"Me, too."

With my blouse rebuttoned, I reluctantly got up from his lap. Bobby got up, too, and I held onto his arm for balance while I raised one foot at a time and put on my boots.

"So you went out with Barek earlier?" he asked as he walked me to the door.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" I responded, although as I said the words, it hit me that I might've mentioned I'd been out drinking with Carolyn, so his reply surprised me.

"I had a beer with Logan," he answered, and by this point I was at the door, so I turned around towards him and when I did, I caught the expression on his face.

The one that says maybe he said more than he meant to.

And I can't help but push it because if Logan was talking about Carolyn with Bobby, I need to know if he was doing it in the _guess who I'm boinking_ sense or in the _I'm completely enamored_ sense.

And no, Logan would never use the term _enamored_, but still…

"Why would he mention Carolyn? And how would he even know her plans? It's not like they hang out after work or anything, " I baited innocently.

"Oh, we…um…well, we were just talking about our partners, and he said that she mentioned that the two of you were going out."

"Huh. That's all he said?"

"What else would he say?"

"I don't know. What did you say?"

"About what?"

"You said you two were talking about your partners. I assume my name came up at some point."

"We talked about what happened in court," he admitted, and I instantly felt bad for teasing him because even though it's what was on my mind at the start of this night, the activities of the past half hour or so had kind of overshadowed it.

"Oh," I replied quietly.

"Not in a bad way," he assured me quickly. "And actually, Logan defended you, saying that our partnership was so new back then…"

"Exactly," I agreed.

"And he says that by now we're banging like pros," he added with a grin, and I had to laugh, easily able to hear Logan saying those exact words.

"Not yet we aren't, but maybe tomorrow after our date," I offered, stepping closer to him and then settling my hands on his chest.

He hadn't put his shirt back on, and the sight of him, standing in front of me in nothing but a pair of sweatpants…dear God, he's so unbelievably sexy.

And why is it again that I'm getting ready to walk out the door?

_This is about how far Carolyn got when she tried to leave Logan_, I thought. _On her way out the door when one thing led to another…_

And now _they're _the ones banging like pros.

"Maybe?" Bobby asked me lightly as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a hug.

"Well, I don't want you to think I'm easy," I said coyly.

I ran my hands over the smooth muscles of his back, and he tightened his hold on me even more, almost as if he's afraid to let me go.

"You're not easy, Eames. But neither am I. We'll be difficult together."

I didn't call him out on his use of my last name. Old habits die hard, I'm sure.

Besides, my attention is on other things.

Like the feel of his hot skin beneath my hands and his rock-hard erection that's pressing against me…the last thing in the world I want to do is go home.

"I'm thinking about being difficult right now," I told him.

"Yeah? How so?" he asked, pulling back enough so that he could look me in the eye.

I put my arms around his neck and then I smiled at him as I went up on my toes, rubbing my body against his as I pulled him down towards me until my mouth was in the vicinity of his ear, and then I said softly, "I don't want to go home."

I pulled back slightly so that I could gauge his reaction, but there wasn't any need for scrutiny.

His response was immediate and definitive.

His eyes darkened as he slid his hand up to the back of my head, and then he kissed me with unchecked passion, not stopping until several minutes – _hours_? – later when he finally pulled back, looking at me with a blend of lust and love in his eyes that gave me the same weak-kneed sensation as the kiss.

"Then don't," he said a gravelly voice. "Stay here with me."

**TBC...**


	4. Chapter 4

**Logan POV**

* * *

><p>"What do you think?"<p>

"On a scale of one to ten? Twelve."

Carolyn's response, accompanied by a sweetly sexy smile, had me wrapping my arms around her, rolling us in the bed so that I was on top.

"I didn't mean _me_," I said, chuckling as I assaulted her neck with kisses.

"I didn't mean you either," she replied. "I was grading your performance."

I paused, pulling back to look at her with feigned concern.

"And I only get a twelve? Come on, sweetheart. That was at least a fifteen."

"Thirteen, tops," she countered.

"Huh. I guess I'll have to work a little harder next time."

"You _do_ realize that I'm saying you've blown away the scale, right?" she said decisively, putting her hands on my face and bringing me down for another kiss. "Far and away the best I've ever had."

And yeah, okay, so she could just be saying that. I mean, women do that kind of thing. Compliment a guy just to make him feel good, truth be damned.

But I don't see Carolyn as that kind of woman.

And since she said it when I wasn't even asking, I think I'm going to believe it.

And _that_ makes me feel pretty good about myself.

Which is funny because normally, the bedroom is one arena where I have no self-doubts, so hearing praise from the woman doesn't usually change my outlook.

It sounds cocky maybe, but I _know_ I'm good at it.

I've always considered that I only do two things in life really well.

Investigate and fornicate.

However, with Carolyn, I find myself wanting to please and impress her.

In _both_ aspects.

With my investigative ability _and_ my prowess in the bedroom.

A few days ago, she complimented the former.

And it was in front of Deakins and Carver, which made it even better. That lawyer Judge Garrett sicced on me stated that my partner would be a witness against me in an excessive use of force claim.

"_Nobody talked to me about it_," she responded immediately. "_If they had I would've said I saw a smart detective use the power of suggestion to get life-saving information from a known criminal."_

I wanted to throw her down on Deakins' desk, right then and there. I mean, she could've just said _he didn't do anything wrong_ and left it at that. Instead she gave a heartfelt assessment that had me tripping over myself to thank her, after we left Deakins' office.

And since when do I care so much what others think about me, in one of my two areas of expertise?

Since Carolyn.

I'm so head over heels for her it's ridiculous.

Which is why I care what she thinks in _this_ arena, too.

"The best?" I asked, unable to resist prompting her for a little more ego-stroking.

She ran her hands down my back and over my butt as she smiled and said, "Without a doubt. You want to know a secret?"

"Yes," I answered immediately.

"I'm a pretty tough critic," she said, her hands still roaming over me in a gentle, caressing manner that feels _so_ good.

"How so?" I asked, leaning down to kiss her neck again, thoroughly enjoying this comfortable session of talking and touching without expectations of anything more.

We already _did_ more. Just a little while ago, after we got home from the bar where she and Eames were having drinks.

And normally by now, an hour after the fireworks, I'd be sound asleep.

"I've never had better than a five before," she answered. "And maybe it was them, or maybe it's me, I don't know. But seriously, even saying five, I'm being generous."

_And she classified me a twelve or thirteen? _

A flood of self-pride rolled through me, and maybe it's silly, because how much of an accomplishment is it to be good at sex?

I don't know, but I'm hoping that since she seems to like having it with me, then maybe she'll stick around long enough to develop deeper feelings for me.

Something akin to what I feel for her.

"And when I first met you, I tried not to think about it, you know?" she continued. "You're my partner, so I didn't want to imagine what you'd be like in bed."

"You should've," I teased. "That's the first thing I did when I met you."

She laughed and pushed against me playfully, but then resumed her tactile exploration.

"Yeah, well my intentions were good, but I did it anyway. I thought about you…like that," she admitted. "I even thought about you when I was…you know."

"Seriously?" I asked with interest, amazed that she would even confess to solo activities, much less to say that she used me as mental stimulation.

She nodded, shrugging somewhat casually as she said, "Sure. Why? You never thought about me when you…"

"From the day I met you," I replied quickly.

"Uh huh," she said dubiously, still smiling at me. She trailed her fingers up my back and into my hair, sparking a pleasant humming sensation in my head. "Anyway, in my mind, you were…amazing. I had you hovering at the top of the scale. And if I'd ever stopped long enough to consider that we'd actually end up in bed together, it might've worried me, thinking maybe my expectations were too high, that they'd be impossible to live up to."

"You didn't think we'd end up here? Just because we're partners?"

"Well, there's that," she answered. "But I also never thought I'd be able to catch your eye. I guess I figured you the type to go for someone…I don't know. Taller. Showier. Bustier."

"You think I'm superficial?" I asked, not offended in the least.

I mean, I _was_ like that for a long time.

"I think you have no interest whatsoever in getting serious, so there's nothing wrong with choosing sexual partners based solely on looks," she said reasonably. "I've done it myself."

Done it.

As in…only in the past?

Or is that why she's here with me now?

_Of course that's why she's here now_, my mind supplied.

It's certainly not for my winning personality.

"Is that why you're here?" I asked, speaking the words without getting permission from my brain, because I'm not sure I want to get into this kind of conversation.

Not right now.

Can't we just keep going along, happily having sex until one day she realizes she's fallen in love with me?

Pushing it now is only going to end badly.

Her fingers stilled as she studied me for a moment, her eyes boring into mine so much so that I'm afraid she can see what I'm thinking.

"Is that what you think?" she asked quietly.

"Honestly? I have no idea. And you know, you don't have to answer that. I didn't mean to get deep on you. You can go back to talking about..."

"That's not why," she interrupted. "And I'm not going to say that I'm not attracted to you physically, because of course I am. You're a gorgeous man, and I'd have to be blind not to notice. But that's not why I'm here."

"Oh," I responded, suddenly feeling slightly nauseated and so far out of my element, and yet I can't wait to hear what more she has to say.

"I've had more than a dozen work partners, all of them men, and do you know how many I've slept with?"

I raised my eyebrow, not completely sure I want to know the answer, but she gave it to me anyway.

"Just you. Do you want to know why? Because sleeping with your partner is a bad idea. When it ends, there can be trust issues and hurt feelings, and that's not the kind of thing you want hanging between you if you find yourself in a standoff with a maniac carrying a gun, you know what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, but you know, we…I…we…" I stammered, still hung up on two things.

One – I'm the only one she broke the rules for.

And two – she said _when_ it ends.

What if I don't want it to end?

"Mike, I'm saying that I feel something for you…I don't want to put a label on it yet, but it's there, and it makes risking our partnership worth it because I really like spending time with you and I promise you, it's not just about the sex. It's everything."

She held my gaze as she spoke almost the exact words I've been hoping she'd say, and I suddenly feel like laughing and crying at the same time, which is insane, I know, and yet I feel it.

Maybe her falling in love with me some day isn't such an impossibility.

And until then…

"So I'm actually better in reality than I was in your fantasies," I said, desperately needing to lighten the moment before I spouted off the L word, because it's right there on the tip of my tongue, and Mike Logan does _not_ say things like that.

"You are," she said, smiling as she let out a relieved breath.

Like maybe she'd been nervous about her words.

Because…she thinks _I'm _only in it for the sex?

_God, who knew relationships were this complicated? _

Although if we're just honest with each other, maybe it doesn't have to be so difficult.

So what I really need to do is just say it, so that she knows what I'm feeling, even if she's not there yet, right?

But I'm a coward.

And the words were just _right there_, so to keep them from coming out, I kissed her instead.

But it was a good one.

One that maybe said to her exactly how I feel.

I _do_ know that it sparked new signs of life in areas of me that were previously spent, and yet I didn't make any move to do anything about it.

I'm enjoying just relaxing with her.

"We got off track," she said softly, her fingers once again threading through my hair. "You were asking what I think…what do I think about what?"

"Oh. Yeah, I was…I'm sorry, but I was thinking about Goren and Eames. Do you think she went over there?"

A slow, full smile spread across her face, causing me to ask, "What?"

"I never pegged you for the cupid type, Mike."

"I'm not."

"Sure you are. You suggested that I catch up with Alex, and you gave me the green light to tell her about us," she stated. "You had a beer with Goren, and I'll kiss your ass if you didn't tell him that you bagged your partner."

"You've already kissed my ass, sweetheart," I joked. "But you can do it again any time the urge hits you."

"So you didn't tell him about me?" she asked doubtfully.

"I might have mentioned it," I admitted.

"Because you wanted him to know that partners can be lovers. Because you think he and Alex belong together and that their work relationship is holding them back," she posed. Then she smiled triumphantly and added, "Because you're a romantic at heart, aren't you?"

"They _do_ belong together," I replied, ignoring her crazy claim that I'm a romantic. "You've seen how he looks at her. And I think he gets a bum rap most of the time, and he's heard so much derogatory crap that he might actually believe some of it. Eames would be good for him if he'd ever open his eyes to it."

"I think she might've gone there tonight."

"You do? So what'd you tell her?"

"I acted like I assumed they were already together, just so that I could see her response when she denied it."

"Smart. And?"

"It's obvious that she's completely in love with him. And she feels bad about that letter being brought to light….about the fact that she wrote it in the first place. I think I convinced her to take another stab at apologizing."

"He's not upset with her. He's just upset to realize that he almost lost her."

"I know that. And you know that. But I think she needs to hear that from him. And once she's over there, who knows what'll happen?"

"I did manage to throw in a good visual for him," I said with a grin. "You know, to get him thinking."

"You didn't tell him about last night, did you?"

Last night.

When I spent the night at her place.

Her furnace went haywire, cranking the temperature up until we finally went out onto the fire escape to take advantage of the cool night air.

And that's not the best part.

The best part is what she did to me while we were out there, supposedly cooling off, only she sent _my_ temperature through the roof.

"No," I promised her. "I wouldn't do that. I don't share details. But I _did_ tell him that we're sleeping together."

_And that I'm in love with you…_

"So I guess they're on their own now," she said. "Although you know, it'd be kind of fun if the four of us went out some time."

"Next week by this time. At the very latest," I said confidently. "Mark my words."

She brought me down for another kiss, another arousal-inspiring, gut-wrenching kiss that makes me suddenly start believing in commitment and forever, and then she said, "You really are the sweetest man. Goren's lucky to have a friend like you."

"Because I'm trying to hook him up with his soul mate?"

"Because you even recognize that she _is_ his soul mate," she responded. "Can I tell you another secret?"

"You can tell me every single one," I encouraged, loving our connection.

"I've never spent the night at a guy's place. And I've never had one stay with me."

"Really? Not once?"

"I…can't sleep with someone else in the bed," she said somewhat self-consciously. "And I don't always need much sleep, but I _do_ need some, and…no, not once."

And yet we've slept together more than apart since that first night three weeks ago.

And I'm pretty sure she _did_ actually sleep once we finished _not_ sleeping.

Or at least, I think so.

"Does that mean you're about to collapse from exhaustion and that you really need to go home right now?"

"No," she said, chuckling lightly as she wrapped her arms around me, pulling me down so that my weight was resting more fully on her. "It means…I don't know what it means. That I trust you enough to be able to sleep."

I'm not sure how to respond to that without sounding really sappy, because I love learning that I've given her another first.

And I love that she's opening up to tell me about this stuff.

_And_ I love that my hard-on's been pressing against her for at least ten minutes now and she hasn't reacted to it. That sounds bad, maybe, but for a guy who's used to being only good for sex, it's actually pretty nice. Especially considering how much I want to mean more to her than that.

Of course, not that I don't have every intention of topping that grade of thirteen.

Just not right now.

Right now, I think it's probably my turn for sharing secrets.

I pulled back slightly and then held onto her, turning us back over so that she was once again lying on top of me.

I figure it's easier for her to breathe this way.

"You want to know one of mine?" I asked her.

"A secret? Sure," she said, that slow, easy smile lighting up her whole face.

I paused, but only for a moment, because this time I'm not going to chicken out.

"Well, it's not exactly a secret, but kind of. I guess it's more something you don't know about me, although I told Goren and maybe I shouldn't have, but…"

"Mike," she said, interrupting my rambling that was sounding increasingly panicked. "It's okay. Just say it."

_Good advice. _

I spent a few seconds stroking my fingers over her back as I practiced the words in my head, and then I said them out loud.

"I love you."

**TBC...**


	5. Chapter 5

**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>Saturday morning.<p>

The sun was filtering through the blinds when I opened my eyes. A sure sign that it was past time to get up, and yet I didn't.

Instead, I stared at the wall while I rehashed the events of last night.

It was the smart thing to do.

Really.

Waiting, I mean.

Offering her a little romance as opposed to a quick and dirty encounter on the sofa.

Suggesting that we go out on a date before turning that irrevocable corner in our relationship.

Not only was it the _smart_ thing to do, but it's also what she deserves.

And really, she deserves a hell of a lot better than _me_, but I'm not about to tell _her_ that, so the best I can do is to offer her honesty and respect.

"_I don't want to cheat you out of the romance. If we're going to start dating, then I should take you out on a real date, right?"_ I managed to say after regrettably extracting my hands from her perfect breasts in order to prevent _her_ hands from venturing to long-untouched real estate.

_A smart move, maybe, but most definitely insane_, my mind supplied.

I had a beautiful woman – the one I've been wanting for years - sitting on my lap with her blouse undone, and she was reaching for the waistband of my pants…and I stopped her.

To suggest that she go home.

See? No matter how many ways I replay the scene in my head…no matter how many times I say it was the smart thing to do, I always end up sounding like the biggest moron in the world.

Although she took it well.

She seemed slightly disappointed maybe, but not put off.

And I think she liked the idea of a date.

I walked her to the door and in my distracted state, I almost let it spill about Logan and Barek.

Although, she probably already knew. I'd guess that Barek told her.

But it wasn't my place to talk about them, on the off-chance that she was still in the dark, so instead I told her Logan's quip about the status of our partnership.

Banging like pros.

She got a kick out of it, as I knew she would, but then she equated it to our current situation.

"_Not yet we aren't, but maybe tomorrow after our date_," she said, settling her hands against my chest.

The feel of her fingers on my skin, combined with her suggestive words that maybe as soon as tomorrow night we could be lovers…it was pure torture.

And I also felt the sudden urge to get some kind of promise from her.

Another one, I mean.

In addition to the fact that she won't secretly try to leave our partnership, I also wanted her assurance that we _would_ go out on a date tomorrow…that we _wouldn't_ try to sweep this unexpected foray into intimacy under the rug.

"_Maybe_?" I asked her as I pulled her into a hug.

And the feel of her body…her breasts that I'd been caressing only moments ago now pressed against my chest…her hands on my back…

I must be completely out of my mind for putting on the brakes.

"_Well, I don't want you to think I'm easy,"_ she replied.

"_You're not easy, Eames. But neither am I. We'll be difficult together."_

Because truth be told, by slowing things down, I was actually trying to protect both of us.

If she were to change her mind about us, _before_ we went too far, then we could backtrack into our partnership.

Mostly, anyway.

But if we rushed it…if we'd crossed the line out there on the couch, and _then_ she decided that she'd acted hastily…I'd try like the devil to backtrack but it would most likely break my spirit.

And she'd feel some kind of obligation to try to make it work, just to keep from hurting me…

It was just smarter to wait.

"_I'm thinking about being difficult right now,"_ she said quietly, and I wanted to point out that she _was_ being difficult because she was being so damn irresistible while _I_ was trying to do the right thing.

But at the same time, I wasn't about to discourage her from touching me.

"_Yeah? How so?"_

She put her arms around my neck, and then she rubbed her body against mine in a move that should be registered as a lethal weapon while saying, "_I don't want to go home." _

Thank God Eames is smarter than me.

Because as much as I thought sending her away was a good idea, having her spend the night was an even better one.

My eyes strayed from the wall to the clock and then back again before movement and a throaty groan pulled my attention to Eames.

Alex.

My partner who's presently naked and curled up next to me in the bed.

"I don't want to get up," I heard her murmur, and not only was I slightly amused by her choice of first words, but I was also relieved by them.

I mean, if she's regretting last night, I can only imagine she'd be ready to get up and make an early escape.

But she hasn't made any move to go anywhere at all.

She was facing away from me, but was completely against me, her back to my front, and I've got my arm wrapped around her waist.

"Who said anything about getting up?" I asked as I pressed my lips against her shoulder.

Once, twice…I started to do it a third time, but then she stretched, arching her back and pushing her butt against me in a way that had me pulling in a ragged breath.

"You were thinking it," she replied casually.

"I've been awake for several minutes now, and I haven't thought about a single thing other than you."

"Is that a good thing? Or…are you having second thoughts?" she asked, and I was reminded once again that I'm not the only one with insecurities.

"I was running through last night in my mind," I told her, once again grazing my lips against her shoulder.

"And?"

"My memory's a little hazy," I said, my voice sounding low and rough as I moved my lips up the side of her neck. I slid my hand upwards, too, stroking first one breast and then the other while I shifted my hips against her backside.

"What should we do about that?" she replied, practically humming as she relaxed against me, letting me have my way with her.

"I think we have a moral imperative to try to recreate the scenario," I reasoned as I teased her ear lobe with my teeth.

Although, of course I'm only kidding.

Not about wanting to recreate the moment, but about the fact that my memory's hazy.

It's not.

I have perfect recall, and I have no doubt that the night will be emblazoned on my brain until the day I die.

"_Then don't_," I encouraged her after she bravely told me that she didn't want to go home. "_Stay here with me."_

I didn't have to say it twice.

And she didn't hesitate, not even for a second.

"_I was really hoping you'd say that_."

Her words were followed by a kiss that was even better than all of its predecessors, and maybe it's because at that point, I knew exactly where we were heading, I don't know.

But whatever the case, my control had reached its limit.

I stepped into her, backing us up until her back was against the door, but because we were standing and I'm so much taller, it still wasn't quite right and yet at the same time, I didn't want to stop kissing her for the time it would take to move to another location.

So I didn't.

Because, like I said, I was working off of raw need and emotion by that point.

So I picked her up.

Not something I would've ever imagined doing to Alex because…well, because she's _Eames_.

But I picked her up, still kissing her, and she wrapped her legs around me, apparently not minding the caveman-like move.

A consideration that I filed away for later, because right _then_, all I wanted to do was get her back out of her blouse. And out of everything else, too.

I turned away from the door and took three steps toward the kitchen table. I set her down on the edge of it, but then somehow the rational side of my brain spoke up and shouted _bedroom!_

"_This is perfect,"_ she said, apparently reading my mind while simultaneously untying the string holding up my sweatpants.

And then, since I trust her _more_ than I trust the rational side of my brain, I went with it.

I swiftly worked to undo the buttons on her blouse and just finished the last one as she finally undid the knot and slipped her hands inside of my pants.

And no, I wasn't wearing anything underneath.

It's not like I'd been expecting company.

And even after she showed up, I certainly never anticipated her putting her hands in my pants.

We both hesitated as her hands encountered bare skin, but then she deliberately continued her exploration while I let my eyes fall closed, temporarily paralyzed by the overwhelming sensations.

I fully expected to wake up at any moment, in my recliner, and find that it was my own hand wrapped around me.

But I didn't.

And it wasn't.

I opened my eyes and got back to work because I'd already spent entirely too much time _not_ getting her naked.

So I remedied that as quickly as possible until she sat there, on the table in front of me, wearing nothing at all.

Of course, by that time, she'd pushed my pants to the floor, so I was in the same state of undress, and for some reason, our situation gave me pause again.

My hesitancy caused her to look at me with a patented Eames look: slightly furrowed brow, intense stare, half-smirk. I've seen that look hundreds of times, and it's usually in anticipation of me asking an illogical question.

"_I'm naked on your kitchen table,"_ she stated. "_Don't ask me if I'm sure."_

"_I wasn't going to ask that," _I lied as a slow smile spread across my face. Then I purposely walked my eyes over her as I added, "_I was just…looking_."

"_Oh,_" she answered, almost shyly, which _isn't_ an Eames thing to do, so it must be an _Alex_ thing, and it was then that I realized that as much as I know her, there's still a lot to learn. "_Then maybe I should be asking you if __**you're**__ sure."_

Am I sure.

If she has to ask, then she has absolutely no idea the depth of my feelings for her.

Of course she doesn't. How would she?

And I _had_ been getting ready to ask her the same thing, so…it'll probably be a good idea for us to spend some time talking.

_After_, I mean.

I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her, an increasingly intense exploration meant to erase any lingering doubt she might have about exactly how much I want her.

She returned the kiss enthusiastically, her hands wandering over me, igniting fires everywhere she touched and even though I'd been in control – _barely_ – only moments ago, I was suddenly in danger of losing it.

So as I continued kissing her, I slid my hands downward, teasing her by just barely touching the skin on her throat, her breasts, her stomach…and then I grabbed onto her hips and held on, pulling her closer to the edge of the table.

And then, still not breaking our kiss, I pushed into her.

I planned to do it slowly.

I meant to draw out the moment of that first thrust, to catalogue the feel of her as I entered her inch by inch.

But I couldn't hold myself back.

I pushed in hard, all the way in, in one long stroke, and all I could think was _again, again, again_, but I wasn't so far gone not to be sure that _she_ was alright, but she was because she grabbed onto my butt, pulling me even deeper into her, and then broke off the kiss as she let out a moan of approval and that was my cue.

Over and over again I drove into her while we marked each other with our lips and teeth. It was aggressive and passionate, physical and enthusiastic…and it was no surprise to learn that she's the perfect match for me in this just like she is in everything else.

And I'd like to say that it lasted for hours, but it was more like fifteen minutes.

Nine hundred seconds of mind-blowing pleasure.

As incredible as it was, it was nowhere near long enough, and I worried that maybe she was disappointed.

But after we spent another couple of minutes holding each other and just _breathing_, she said, "_Oh my God, Bobby_."

And the tone of her voice had me thinking that maybe she'd enjoyed it as much as me.

"_We should've done that years ago_," she continued, smiling as she looked up at me.

And her expression was so…I don't know.

Satiated and…something else that I'm afraid to even think about.

But it did send my confidence soaring.

After that, I picked her up and carried her to my bedroom.

And now, at nearly eleven-thirty in the morning, I'm thinking that I need to make love with her properly, because what we did last night falls more under the category of a certain four-letter word, and I need her to know that what I feel for her is so much deeper than physical desire.

Which reminds me of my epiphany from last night.

We should probably actually _talk_ about how we feel, more so than in generalities and innuendo.

She turned in my arms, pressing her lips against mine for a lingering moment, and then flashing me a smile.

"A moral imperative?" she replied, referring to my request to recreate last night's scenario. "I'm not sure your kitchen table can withstand a repeat performance."

I think she's right about that.

We moved it about eighteen inches during those fifteen minutes, and I'm not sure, but I'm guessing it probably scuffed up the floor.

Not that I care.

"Okay, so not an exact re-creation," I amended, hugging her to me, pressing that beautiful body against mine.

"We couldn't do an exact one anyway. I mean, your memory's hazy, right?" she teased as she slid her leg over mine.

"I remember every second," I confessed, and then I nudged her onto her back, going with her so that I was on top of her, and as I captured her lips with mine, I pushed into her, slowly this time, like I meant to do last night.

She tipped her head back into the pillow, closing her eyes and letting out a contented sigh.

"You feel so good," she said, opening her eyes again to look at me, and I was struck by the way those whiskey-colored eyes were glassy with unshed tears, with barely-checked emotion.

Although I'll admit that I'm feeling pretty emotional, too.

I mean, in the light of day, it's even more obvious.

We haven't just crossed a line. We erased it completely, getting rid of it altogether with the intention of never going back.

And quite honestly, I'm not use to attaining my heart's desire.

It's a little daunting.

And yet here she is, looking up at me adoringly.

"You're the most important person in my life,"she said simply. "You know that, right?"

"I'm…I…" I began, surprised by her declaration, considering the size of her family. I mean, for _me_ to say that wouldn't mean much, but for her…

"You are," she insisted, her eyes once again fluttering closed as I continued the slow, easy rhythm, and I just had to kiss her again because it was either that or spout out_ I love you _and as much as it's true, it scares me to say it.

And then, even though he has absolutely no place in my head at a time like this, I thought about Logan.

Or more accurately, I thought about how he's in love with Carolyn and yet afraid to say it, and didn't I offer him the advice of telling her because she might surprise him?

But we're not them.

We're us, and we need to do things our own way.

So I put my mouth to good use, for things other than talking, and we made love for much, _much_ longer than last night's fifteen minutes.

Afterwards, we still weren't ready to leave the bed, so I pulled her up against me and we relaxed in the silence of the room, me with my fingers running through her hair, and her with her hand gently stroking my chest.

Is it any wonder that we both dozed off?

When I opened my eyes again, the sun was no longer breaching the front blinds.

"What time is it?" she mumbled.

"Three-thirty," I said after glancing at the clock.

"And you're still in the bed. This has to be a first."

"It is," I agreed. "But it's only because you're here with me. And I'm not in any hurry to go anywhere, are you?"

"Actually, I should probably go," she answered, although she made no move to leave my embrace.

"I'll order us some take-out and we can eat in bed," I suggested hopefully, because for some crazy reason, I'm afraid to let her go.

Because what if she never comes back?

"That's tempting," she agreed, shifting so that she could look up at me. "But you're not getting off that easily."

I stared at her for a moment, unsure exactly what she meant, but then she smiled and added, "We have a date, remember? You think just because you got me in the sack that you're off the hook for romance?"

"Absolutely not," I said quickly. "But after last night and this morning and then the nap…well, my brain isn't running at full capacity. But yes, we definitely have a date tonight. So…I'll pick you up at seven?"

She pulled back from me, and gave me a quick kiss before saying, "That sounds good."

I watched her as she got out of the bed, appreciating her body as she glanced around the room in search of her clothes.

"In the kitchen, remember?" I said with a grin.

"Right," she replied, shaking her head. "Wow, that seems like a long time ago."

"In a good way, I hope," I said as I got up from the bed and met her in the doorway.

"In a very good way. Last night I was worried about salvaging our partnership, and now…"

"You didn't need to worry about that. But since it means you came over, I'm glad you did."

Together we walked out to the kitchen where I pulled on my sweatpants and then watched her as she got dressed.

It's not as much fun as seeing her get _un_dressed and yet it still has a certain intimate appeal, and I kept my eyes on her the entire time.

"Okay, so…I'll see you tonight?" she asked once she was ready to go.

"I'll be there," I promised.

I kissed her one more time, something to get me through the next few hours, and then I let her go.

Almost.

"Eames…Alex," I said as she turned the knob.

She turned around and looked at me expectantly, and my heart beat kicked into overdrive, but I couldn't let her leave without saying _something_.

"Yeah?"

"You're the most important person in my life, too," I told her.

She smiled fully, dropping her gaze and blushing slightly at my words, but I wasn't done.

"And I mean…even if I had hundreds of special people in my life, you'd be…well, you'd come first. You always come first."

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>I stood under the hot spray of the shower for a long time without moving.<p>

Just…thinking.

And reliving.

Last night…this morning…

It's impossible to keep the smile from my face.

It doesn't matter that I'm slightly sore.

Or that I'll probably have to wear a turtleneck to work for a couple of days.

Or that I broke the promise to myself about there being no kissing at his place last night.

Because I don't feel bad about any of that.

In fact, I feel _really_, really good.

I let out a deep sigh and reached for the soap and I wondered if I could call Carolyn.

I mean, obviously, I _can_ but I'm not sure if I _should_.

Bobby and I didn't really talk about the idea that we'd keep this thing a secret, but it almost has to be, considering our status at work.

Although, if there were an exception, it would be Logan and Carolyn, I guess.

I mean, she _did_ share their secret with me.

And damn, do I ever want to tell someone about what happened.

The intense, feverish, primal occurrence that transpired on his kitchen table…the beautiful, loving, emotional event in his bedroom this morning…both were incredible experiences, both equally orgasmic, both unbelievably gratifying.

And his sweet words just as I left his apartment…Bobby was just so…so…forthcoming and open and…vulnerable.

I get a tingling feeling in the pit of my stomach just thinking about the way he looked at me as he said the words.

I still held the soap in my hand, feeling oddly reluctant to wash away the smell of him, that hint of masculine, musky scent that was still clinging to my skin.

But I also want to be ready for our date, so I finally got to it, and as I moved my hands moved over my body, I can't help but think about how _his_ hands felt…large and slightly calloused and constantly in motion, gently touching me everywhere.

In my wildest dreams of how I thought it might be with him, I never imagined it like that.

Maybe it's because in my dreams, I always pictured some monumental crisis, like a near-death experience, that brought us together, and there was usually quite a bit of alcohol involved, enough to make me forget my fears - much more than what I had last night.

I dreamed it like that because even in fantasy, I needed it to feel _plausible_, and I always assumed that it would take abject tragedy and abundant liquor for either of us to make a move.

But last night, we had neither of those things, and yet we still seemed to take turns being bold.

It was almost as if by sheer virtue of me going to his apartment at nearly one o'clock in the morning the entire thing was set in motion.

_Or Carolyn set it in motion, talking about her and Logan_, I thought, the idea popping suddenly into my brain.

And Bobby had a beer with Logan…so did they talk about the same things?

Was it on his mind as much as it was mine, simply because of the inspiration offered by our colleagues?

I stopped washing for a moment as I pondered that possibility.

Were they playing matchmaker with us, giving us that last little push that we needed in order to hurdle that overstated line?

Or was it truly coincidental, her opening up to me while simultaneously showing me what _I_ could have if I ever got up the nerve to tell Bobby how I feel?

_Does it really matter?_

No, although if it _was_ an intentional shove on Carolyn's part, I'm going to have to buy her another drink, because I'm pretty sure I never would've gone to his apartment last night, if not for her encouragement.

And if I _hadn't_, then today I'd be hung over and miserable, wondering how Bobby was spending his weekend, and worrying about how things would be at work on Monday morning.

Instead, I'm getting ready for our date.

_And my cheeks are starting to ache from excessive smiling_, I thought.

But I can't help it.

And haven't I spent enough years _not_ smiling?

I finished up in the shower and then wrapped the towel around me after drying off and just as I left the bathroom, I heard my cell phone ringing.

"Come on, no case tonight," I grumbled as I headed into the bedroom where I'd left my hardware.

We're not on call, but Deakins doesn't always stick to the list.

"No case, no case, no case," I chanted as I snagged my phone from the dresser.

I absolutely do _not_ want to go to work tonight, because I'm already addicted to kissing Bobby. And the light touch of his fingers on my skin…the powerful feel of his muscles under my hands when he's driving in to me…God, what have I turned in to?

I'm completely aroused just by the thought of him.

I shook my head in annoyance as I glanced down at the display, and my irritation immediately turned to excitement and then apprehension at the sight of Bobby's name.

"Eames," I answered, like I've done a million times before and yet I'm holding my breath because I'm suddenly worried that he's calling to cancel…he's had time to think and now he's changed his mind…

"It's me," he responded.

"I know. I've had you programmed into my phone for six years," I reminded him jokingly, because the tone of his voice has me worried, and being a smartass is my fallback. It's always preferable to getting upset.

"Yeah. Right. Sorry," he replied.

"I'm kidding," I assured him, suddenly feeling bad for teasing him because it occurred to me that _he_ sounds worried.

Like he thinks…that I've changed _my_ mind?

For the love of God, when did things get so complex?

_Probably around the time you stuck your hand down his pants,_ I told myself smartly.

Although I have no regrets about that whatsoever.

And he _wasn't_ wearing anything underneath…and the feel of his super-heated skin and his firm backside and the hard, _hard_ length of him…

I think we need to skip the date and just spend the rest of the weekend in bed.

But first I need to find out what's on his mind.

"So, um…what's up?" I asked lightly, hoping to get our conversation back on track.

Because we can't afford to let it be awkward between us. It'll freak him out, and then he'll try to back off and then _that'll_ piss me off…

"Well, I've been thinking about you, so you probably shouldn't ask me that," he responded, and it took me a full second to grasp what he was saying, and then I burst out laughing, from both relief and amusement.

"You made a joke," I pointed out.

"You're assuming I'm not being serious," he said suggestively.

And to think I was worried about us going off the rails so soon.

I love that he's like this…that he doesn't feel the need to analyze everything, or at least not _too_ much.

"Hey," he continued. "I didn't mean to start out sounding so ominous. I just…it felt strange calling you."

_And yet he did it anyway_...I'm loving his confidence, too.

"Bobby, you've called me hundreds of times," I said reasonably.

"Yeah, but this is the first time since…well, since…"

"Since you saw me naked? I don't think that changes the dynamic of a phone call," I teased.

"It changes everything," he countered, his voice deep and husky. The tone combined with his poignant words sent a fresh flood of arousal through me. "And it makes me worried that I'll do something stupid to mess this up, because now that we're together, I don't think I can go back…to _not_, I mean."

"We're not going back," I said confidently, touched by his candor. "And you _will_ do something stupid. But so will I. And we'll forgive each other, because that's what you do when you…when you…when you're with someone."

Twice I almost said it.

_When you love someone_.

And maybe I should just say it. I mean, he's being honest, so I should be, too.

_But not over the phone_, I decided.

Tonight.

"Okay," he said, letting out a relieved breath. "I think I let myself panic a little…I mean, you've been alone for a couple of hours now, so you might've gotten your common sense back."

He said that last part lightheartedly and I chuckled, glad to hear that we worked through his worry fairly easily.

And hadn't I been thinking the same thing, when I saw that it was him on the phone?

We're both so out of practice with relationships in general, and then combine that with the classic cautionary tale of bumping a friendship up to something more…it's no wonder we feel a little like we're standing in quicksand.

But I think we're off to a really good start.

"If I haven't gotten it back by now, I think you're safe," I told him.

"Good, because…I might've done something stupid already."

And despite his words, I had to laugh.

"You already had a date for tonight and you forgot about it when you asked me?"

"What? No," he said firmly. "I haven't dated in…well, a long time."

"You…volunteered us to work this weekend?"

"Definitely not."

"Okay, then I think you're safe, because those are the only two things that might've made me a little upset," I said.

And I'd been trying to ease his mind, showing him that he's much harder on himself than I'll ever be on him, but then, just in case, I added, "And even if it _were_ one of those two things…that wouldn't mean we're over. It would just mean you'd have to break some poor girl's heart by calling to cancel. Or that we might get a call-out that interrupts our date. You know, just because I'm a hard-ass at work…"

"If you're going to start talking about your ass, I'm going to lose my focus," he interrupted.

"I wasn't," I said, laughing again at his playfulness. "I said _hard_ ass."

"I know," he insisted.

"Bobby…what did you do?"

He sighed heavily and then said, "I might've told Logan about us."

"You might have? You're not sure?" I asked, not upset by his statement at all. I trust Logan, and I think it'll be nice to have someone in the loop with us.

_And maybe I can call Carolyn to tell her about last night_, I thought, feeling like a teenager and yet not caring at all.

"He stopped by, not long after you left," he explained.

Not long after…wouldn't _that_ have been awkward, if I'd run into him on my way out the door?

I mean, not minding that he knows we're working on a relationship and having him _see_ me slinking out of Bobby's apartment dressed in yesterday's clothes are two completely different things.

"And?"

"We went into the kitchen so that I could grab us a couple of beers, and while my head was in the fridge, he said _I see Eames was over here_."

"What? How'd he know?"

"My thoughts exactly. So I looked over at him, and he nodded towards the kitchen table and said, _she left her badge_."

"My badge is right here. I'm looking at it," I replied in confusion.

"I know," he said with a light chuckle.

And then I got it.

Logan used a classic false-information technique.

"But you looked, which meant there was a possibility that it _was_ there," I said, closing my eyes, but smiling as I thought about what I might do to Logan as payback.

And like I said, I really don't _care_ that he knows.

But resorting to fishing tactics was going to cost him.

"Uh huh," he agreed. "I covered for us. Sort of. I mean, I told him you stopped by last night so that we could clear the air about the letter, which is the truth."

"But?"

"I don't think he bought it."

"It's fine," I assured him. "He's your friend. He would've figured us out sooner or later anyway. Besides, we know about…I mean…"

I trailed off, realizing that I still don't know for sure if Bobby knows about _them…_and this is just ridiculous.

"You know, don't you?" I asked him carefully.

"About Logan and…"

"Yeah. So you _do_ know."

"He told me last night."

"_She_ told _me_ last night."

We were quiet for a moment or two, each of us thinking about the reality of our situation.

"So…this is good," I said at last. "They're breaking the rules, and so are we, and neither of us would ever tell on the other, so it's no big deal."

"So I should just tell him?"

"Well, I didn't say _that_. After his little trick with the badge, I don't think we should make it easy on him."

He chuckled again and said, "I love that devious streak of yours."

"Oh yeah?" I said, feeling extraordinarily warm on the inside from the way he said the words and it hit me for the dozenth time just since I've been home that I can't wait to see him.

"Uh huh. Just don't turn it on me, okay?"

"I wouldn't dream of it."

We talked for another minute, and then I decided that if I didn't hang up, I'd never be ready for our date.

"I need to go," I told him. "But I'll see you soon, right?"

"I'll be there in an hour."

One hour.

I almost panicked, considering I was still dressed in only a towel, and then I had to laugh at my own absurdity.

A – I'm not the type of woman who gets all gussied up for a date.

B – I still have an hour to get dressed.

And C - he's seen me in less than a towel anyway, so even if A and B didn't exist, I'd be just fine.

Although as it turns out, A isn't quite so accurate.

Because I spent a lot of time making sure that my hair and make-up look right, and then I spent nearly fifteen minutes standing in front of my closet, debating on what to wear, and _then_ I nearly had _another_ panic attack when I realized that Bobby was due to arrive in less than ten minutes.

And I'm still not ready.

Because I think he's seen everything in my closet, so what am I supposed to wear?

He'd suggested casual, since we both tend to dress nice at work. Him more so than me, but still…he obviously wants to make a statement about the fact that we're _not_ working.

So…jeans?

Or is that too casual?

I can dress them up with boots and a nice blouse, maybe the honey-colored silk one that my sister swears matches my eyes…

With my mind made up, I pulled the blouse from the hanger and tossed it on the bed and then went to the dresser to get out my underwear.

"Something _matching_ this time," I mumbled to myself, since last night's unexpected disrobing had exposed my mismatched bra and panties.

_Not that I think he noticed_, I thought, smirking at the memory of the expression on his face when he was undressing me.

And _that_ thought got me thinking about how he'd skillfully teased my skin with his lips and his tongue…his teeth and his fingertips...

I looked up from the drawer, catching my reflection in the mirror. My skin flushed from my licentious thoughts…the marks along the side of my neck…the chafed skin on my chest, a result of his heavily stubbled cheeks…

_And that's just what I can see right now. _

I'm sure there's more chafing in other places, too.

Maybe I _won't_ get dressed. Maybe I'll just open the door wearing nothing but a smile and see how he responds to that.

Because for the love of God I'm wound up so tightly right now that I can barely think straight.

It's almost funny considering how long it's been since I've had sex.

Prior to last night, I mean.

And why is it that I was perfectly fine throughout years of abstinence, and now that I've had it twice over the course of about twelve hours, I suddenly have to have _more_?

Because it's Bobby.

_And he's so damn good at it_, I added as I returned my focus to the contents of the drawer.

But…we're going out on a date first. So that we can talk and try our hand at acting like a real couple.

Because it's really important that we get this right.

Even though I have to tamp down my raging libido for the moment, I still selected black lace bra and panties, because I'm hoping that _after_ our date, he might enjoy taking them off of me.

Five minutes later, I was fully dressed and pulling on my brown leather boots when I heard a knock on the door.

And how crazy is it that excitement and arousal and a little bit of nervousness all slammed through me at the same time, just from the sound of my partner knocking on the door?

"It's because you're in love with him, dumb ass," I muttered mockingly as I zipped up my boot and then headed for the door.

And yeah, I _am_ in love with him, but still…up until yesterday I've been pretty good at ignoring it, and now suddenly it's all I can think about.

"Hi," I said with forced casualness as I opened the door, and then whatever else I was going to say escaped me as I took in the sight of him.

Medium-blue jeans and a dark blue sweater…brown hiking boots and a light brown suede coat…clean-shaven, a half-smile on his face, and a bouquet of flowers in his hand…oh, and did I mention that he smells as amazing as he looks?

_Date first, sex later_, I had to remind myself because I swear to God the man looks good enough to eat.

"Eames…Alex…you look beautiful," he said to me as I opened up the door fully to allow him to come inside.

But instead of moving into the apartment, he moved right in front of me, holding me captive against the open front door with his intoxicating body.

"Thank you. But you know, you can pick one and go with it," I said, my voice sounding slightly shaky.

He tilted his head as he looked at me questioningly, and I added, "Eames or Alex. You don't have to call me both at the same time."

He flashed me a smile and said, "I'm use to Eames. But she's my partner, only part of who I want. Alex is the whole woman."

I've always known that the man has a way with words, but _damn_…

"So Alex it is, then," he concluded as he leaned down to kiss me.

I love that he's going full bore ahead with this date thing because I was a little afraid that it would be slightly uncomfortable, at least at first. Like maybe after taking a breather from our previous sex-hazed existence, affection would feel forced or awkward.

But there's nothing remotely awkward about this kiss.

Even though he didn't touch me anywhere other than on my lips, my entire body is vibrating with want.

So much so that after he broke off the kiss, I put my hand on his shoulder and brought him back down to me for another one.

This time, as he pulled back slowly, he closed his eyes.

"You really make me want to say to hell with the date," he said quietly.

_Ah, the temptation…_

Because man do I ever love this confident Bobby.

But then he opened his dark brown eyes and locked his gaze on mine as he said, "But I think it's important that we do this right, don't you? Spend some time together, not in the bedroom."

"Definitely," I agreed.

He let his eyes move slowly over me, lingering briefly in the vicinity of my chest, where I'd left the buttons undone low enough to offer a slight glimpse of black lace.

"Because if we stay here," he continued as he dragged his eyes back up to mine. "I won't last five minutes before I have to strip you down and have my way with you."

I had to remind myself to breathe because it's not even close to being my body's top priority.

"Then…um…we'd better…go," I managed to say.

He held my gaze for a second more, and then he smiled as he took a small step back from me.

"I brought you these," he said as he held out the flowers.

"You didn't have to do that," I replied, although despite my words, I'll admit that I love the thoughtful gesture. I took the assortment of yellow blooms from his hand and said, "Let me put them in a vase and then we can get out of here."

I left him in the doorway and went into the kitchen where I took two whole minutes to breathe and attempt to lower my body temperature.

And you know, I've always considered myself good with men. I don't date much anymore, but that's by choice. When I was into that kind of thing, I never had any trouble. I was always confident and in control.

But it occurs to me, as I continue to stand motionless in my kitchen while my pulse is _still_ racing from Bobby's latest suggestive remark that I'm _way_ out of my league here.

He's got me ready to do anything he wants.

If he walked into the kitchen right now and suggested that we stay here and have sex on the floor, I'd be unbuttoning my jeans before he finished his sentence.

_But I trust him completely, so what difference does it make? _

"Alex?"

I startled at the sound of his voice behind me, especially considering the direction of my thoughts.

I turned around and found him standing in the doorway.

"Are you hanging out in here, hoping to kill five minutes so that you can find out if I meant what I said?" he asked me, a smile playing on his lips. "Because I did. And I'm keeping close watch on that clock…trust me."

"If you think that's going to make me hurry up, then you've completely lost your mind," I answered.

He smiled fully, nodding as he walked closer to me. He took the flowers from my hand and set them on the counter and then pulled me into a hug.

"This is so bizarre, isn't it?" he commented, his voice soft and rumbling as we stood holding each other, swaying slightly from side to side. "I mean, last week at this time, I was home…alone…and it never once occurred to me that I'd ever have the opportunity to hold you like this."

"It _is_ surreal," I agreed. "We're in my kitchen trying to decide whether to go out to dinner or stay home and have sex. And I have to tell you…in that debate, food doesn't stand a chance."

He pulled back from me, sliding his hands down my arms and then clasping onto my hands.

"I love getting to know this side of you," he said. "And I love how you're making this all so easy. And I love…well, I love…you. I love you."

As much as I've thought those very same words, it never once entered my mind that he'd say them to me first, and for some reason, it makes them that much more special.

Because I _know_ Bobby…and I know how hard it was for him to take such a colossal step, to put himself out there and risk being hurt.

But of course, I'm not about to hurt him.

"I love you, too," I responded, smiling as he let out a relieved breath, and then I had to lighten the moment just a little bit because it's all so _much_. "What, you were afraid that I don't? Really, Bobby…you're the best detective I know, and you hadn't figured that one out?"

He let out a laugh and then leaned down to kiss me hard and quick before saying, "Well, you're the best one _I _know and you were clueless too, so…"

"You got me there," I agreed, feeling insanely euphoric about the quick progression of our relationship.

And no, it's not _really_ quick in the grand scheme of things, but it's just all falling into place so perfectly.

"Okay, so…date or sex?" I asked playfully.

"I'd love to say otherwise, but let's stick with our plan," he replied, keeping my hand in his as we started walking towards the door. I can't help but wonder if his smile feels as foreign to him as mine does to me, because we're not typically smiley people, and yet here we are…

"Good choice," I agreed. "We'll go out on our date and we'll talk about things other than work."

I turned off the light as we left the apartment and then I stopped to lock up behind us.

He stood close to me, and leaned down as he said, "And then?"

I turned around, loving the way he looms over me, trapping me once again between his body and the door.

"And then we'll come back here so that you can strip me down and have your way with me."

As I said the words, I ran my hands down his chest, not stopping until I reached his belt, which I grabbed on to so that I could pull him even closer to me.

He leaned down and kissed me, a scorching and passionate exploration that had me gripping onto his belt even tighter.

"Is it too late to switch up that order?" he asked in a rough voice. "Because I've got a good idea of what I want to do to you."

I deserve a medal for my restraint. I really, really do.

Because I know he wants to do this right, and _I_ want to do this right, so…

"Save that thought," I answered. "But yeah, I'm sure."

I kissed him one more time just because he's oh so good at it, and then I let go of his belt and patted him on the chest.

"Come on," I said. "Let's go on our date."

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>It's been a week.<p>

Seven days.

One hundred and sixty-eight hours.

Okay, maybe not _exactly_ that many hours.

Because the first time I made love to Alex, it was around two a.m. on Saturday morning, and at the moment, it's nine-thirty on Friday night.

"So I say to the guy, _yeah, you're right - we'd be real upset if something happened to a piece of crap like you_."

Logan paused in his story-telling, laughing as he picked up his bottle of beer.

"And what'd he say?" I asked him with amusement.

No one tells a story like Logan, and I'm in the mood to laugh tonight.

Why wouldn't I be?

The work week is over.

Alex is meeting me here in half an hour.

And as I mentioned, it's been a week since we decided to take a chance and start a real relationship.

A week since we started making love.

Eighteen times so far.

Impressive for a man my age, right?

But even discounting the physical aspect, our relationship itself is working out really well.

In fact, we're as good at being a couple as we are at being partners. Better, even.

And it's possible that at some point, the newness will wear off, and I might be able to look at her without wanting to throw her down on the nearest available surface.

But I don't think so.

Last Saturday night, we went out on our first date.

We didn't go anywhere special. It was just the two of us, having a nice dinner in a decent restaurant.

But that's not to say it wasn't memorable.

Because sitting together at a table for two, without a case to solve or a schedule to keep...it was really nice.

_"I don't know what to talk about,"_ she said to me with a slightly self-conscious smile, after the waiter disappeared. _"We don't have to do the typical first-date stuff."_

_"True. We don't need to describe our jobs to each other, or our families, or where we went to school..."_

_"Favorite music...movies...books..."_

_"It seems like we've been unknowingly dating each other for years. Maybe we **should've** stayed home_," I said suggestively as I picked up her hand.

She smiled as I brought her hand to my lips, kissing the back of it lingeringly.

"_We could do this in reverse_," she posed.

"_Is that supposed to be a dirty remark_?" I teased. "_Because if it is..." _

_"No_," she said on a laugh. "_I mean...let's see how well we really know each other. You answer questions about me, and I'll answer questions about you."_

"_Okay. I'm in_," I agreed, relaxing in my chair and just breathing in the moment.

_She loves me_, I thought in amazement. _And I think we're going to be **really** good at this._

"_You know if you answer wrong, you're going to be in trouble, right_?" she joked.

"_What'll my punishment be?"_

_"Are you afraid?"_

_"No, I'm trying to decide if I should answer wrong on purpose."_

She laughed lightly, and I watched her from across the tiny table...the way the candlelight not only threw shadows across her face but also seemed to set her eyes alight.

"_I'll start_," I continued. "_I know a good fact about you."_

_"More than one, I'm sure, but I'm supposed to ask a question."_

_"Then you need to ask me if you're so insanely beautiful that I can't take my eyes off of you. Ask me that, and I'll say yes."_

My compliment must have taken her by surprise, because she just stared at me for a moment, her cheeks flushing slightly.

And_ then _she looked like she was going to argue with me about my assessment, because for some reason Alex doesn't seem to think she's beautiful.

I'll have to be sure to keep reminding her of that fact.

Anyway, before she could dispute my statement, I leaned across the table and kissed her. It was slow and gentle...and a promise of things to come.

And when I pulled back, she seemed to have forgotten what she was going to say.

_Who knew I'd have that kind of effect on her?_

We eventually _did_ get into our game of reverse Q and A, and that segued into each of us recounting stories from our misspent youth.

The hours passed like minutes, despite the fact that we nearly skipped the date altogether due to our overwhelming desire for each other.

It was fun and comfortable and easy, a direct contradiction to how I felt earlier, when I went to pick her up for the date.

When I showed up at her place, I was nearly out of my mind with nervousness.

Because I knew what I was going to tell her.

I wanted to get it out of the way so that I could stop obsessing over it.

And maybe that sounds bad…like I wasn't putting enough importance on the act itself, but in all honesty, I was placing _so_ much importance on it that it was disrupting all other thoughts.

So on the way to her place, I decided that I'd tell her that I love her because I _do_ and wouldn't it be best to start our relationship with all of our cards on the table?

Besides, I was pretty sure she was right there with me.

And if not, she was at least close enough not to have my declaration be a turn-off.

But she was with me, returning the pivotal sentiment without hesitation, and then in true Alex fashion, she followed it up with a joke.

"_Really, Bobby…you're the best detective I know, and you hadn't figured that one out?"_

I love her sarcastic sense of humor.

It's probably one of my favorite things about her.

In addition to her intelligence. And her ambition. Her honesty. The way she's so attuned to what I'm thinking.

Oh, and her sexiness. Her sensuality. The way she likes to use her tongue to…

"Goren?" Logan said, pulling me from my thoughts.

"What?"

"You're spacing out on me. Thinking about Eames again?"

"Why would I be thinking about my partner, three hours after clocking out?" I asked him as I picked up my beer.

Because see, we still haven't told him yet.

He thinks he knows and I keep denying it and it's driving him crazy.

Of course, the jig'll be up tonight since Alex and Carolyn are meeting us here in just a little while, but for now, I'm still having fun with him.

"Because you've got a thing for your partner," he stated. "You know it. I know it. And _Eames_ knows it because she spent the night at your place last weekend."

"Because you caught me with that grade-school badge thing?" I asked in amusement. "Yeah, that's real damning, Logan. My partner, who came over to apologize after a misunderstanding, may or may not have left her badge on my kitchen table…call the sex police because we must be doing it."

"See, you've even picked up her sarcasm," he said with a grin.

"Okay, see, that makes no sense. I'm her partner. If I were going to pick up sarcasm from her, it'd be at work. If we were _sleeping_ together, which we're not, I'd sure as hell hope that she doesn't spout off one-liners in the bedroom."

Another lie.

Because she does, and I love it.

We've spent more time laughing in bed than…than…well, we do it a lot.

"Just admit it," he said, rolling his eyes at me as he signaled to the bartender for another round.

"Admit what?"

"Forget it," he said at last. "But you know, that hurts a little."

"That I'm not sleeping with my partner?"

"That you are, but you won't tell me, even though I told you about me and Carolyn."

"Yeah, how's that going , by the way?" I asked, changing the subject so that I wouldn't cave and tell him the truth.

Because he's right. He trusted me and now I'm leaving him hanging.

But not because I don't trust him – just because Alex wanted to torment him for a little while. And she'll be here soon, so I'm not going to ruin her fun by letting the cat out of the bag.

Apparently my change of topic was a good one, because Logan smiled broadly and said, "I did it."

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but…okay, what'd you do?"

"I told her how I feel. I told her that I'm in love with her."

"And?"

He shook his head, but he was still smiling, and then he turned to look at me as he said, "You have no idea how great it feels to hear those words back."

I looked down at my beer to keep him from seeing that I was fighting back a smile, because I know _exactly_ how great it feels.

Like no matter how convoluted and screwed up life was up to that point, it suddenly had the potential to be everything I've ever wanted.

And maybe that sounds a little over-the-top dramatic, but it's true.

Before Alex, I never expected that I'd get much more from life than professional gratification.

But now…now I don't mind when five o'clock comes and it's time to punch out.

In fact, I look forward to it because usually by that time, Alex and I have each other so worked up that it's all we can do to make it back to my apartment.

And actually, one time we didn't.

It was two days ago, and after spending the entire day on paperwork, giving each other looks from across our desks, I was one touch away from complete loss of control. And so was she, because as she drove us towards my place, I leaned over and slid my hand between her thighs while working my lips along the side of her neck, and the next thing I knew, she'd pulled into a parking garage and slammed the gearshift into park.

"_What are we doing?"_ I'd asked her with barely-contained excitement.

"_You started it_," she said as she whipped off her seatbelt and then turned towards me with unabashed desire. "_So I think you need to finish it_."

And did I ever.

It only lasted a few minutes, but mother of God…the adage of _quality not quantity_ definitely applied.

"I mean, I really took a chance throwing it out there because we haven't been together all that long," Logan was saying, his voice cutting through my thoughts about Alex straddling me in the front seat of the SUV. "But it got to the point where I just had to say it because I couldn't stop thinking it, you know?"

I just stared at him for a minute because it's almost scary, the similarities of his feelings on the matter to mine.

Almost verbatim.

"I know exactly what you mean," I replied before I could censor myself.

"Yeah, I bet you do," he said with a smirk. "So…Eames…"

I chuckled and shook my head as I picked up the bottle and took a drink.

"There's nothing going on," I told him.

"Seriously. You're not in love with her," he stated skeptically.

"No."

"And you're not sleeping with her."

"Logan, let it go, will you? You know Eames. You think she'd give me a second glance?"

"And a third, fourth, and fifth," he replied confidently. "She's got it bad for you, so if you aren't doing anything about it…"

"We're partners," I said firmly, but I couldn't keep from checking my watch as I made the statement because I'm not sure how much longer I can hold out.

Five minutes before ten.

"Uh huh. Just like me and Carolyn."

"Are you going to keep hounding me about this?" I asked him, going on the offensive in an effort to derail the topic.

"I just don't get it," he said, now looking mystified. "You're best friends. Neither of you date anyone else. And I can feel the heat coming off you two from ten feet away, so what gives?"

"It's…okay, you want the truth?"

"Yes," he said emphatically. "It's about time!"

"I hit on her, and she turned me down," I told him.

He stared at me for a long minute, completely nonplussed, and then he slowly nodded.

"Okay, well…then as your friend, I feel it's my duty to tell you that the girl two stools over has been checking you out for the past ten minutes. You should buy her a drink. She has that look about her, you know what I'm saying? I bet a drink is all it'll take."

"All it'll take for what?" I asked him, trying to hide my panic as I turned to glance at the woman in question, since he was nudging my arm and tipping his head in that direction.

She's attractive enough, I suppose, but I have no interest whatsoever.

Because she's not Alex.

"For her to go home with you. You know, so you can release some of that stress from the work week. Take a ride in the Lincoln Tunnel, right? She's a sure thing."

"Um…no, I'm good."

"You sure? She looks like she could use a good pipe cleaning, you know what I'm saying?'

"Yeah, I know what you're saying," I said as I started to laugh. "You got any more euphemisms you want to throw at me?"

"Hundreds. So why don't you send your newfound mambo partner a drink? Because I'm meeting Carolyn in a little bit, and I hate to leave you here all alone."

"She's got a drink. And I don't need a hook-up. But thanks."

"What does it hurt to strike up a conversation?" he pushed. "She might have a personality to go along with her…other assets."

"Not interested."

"Why not?" he asked smugly. "Because you're in love with Eames?"

"You're a broken record, Logan. What'll it take to convince you that you're wrong about us?"

"Go hit on that woman," he said, nodding again towards the girl down the bar.

I sighed and sat back in the stool.

It's no wonder the man's solve rate is so high. When he thinks he's right about something, he doesn't let up.

"Tell me about Carolyn. So she's in love with you?"

"Yeah," he answered with a broad grin.

"And she passed the department psych eval?" I questioned with feigned concern.

He laughed and took a sip from his beer, and then he got serious on me.

"She must be crazy, right? She's way too good for me, but she doesn't seem to know that. But still…I kind of keep waiting for her to figure it out, you know?"

"She's one of the smartest people I know. And you're a good guy. Don't sell yourself short."

He nodded thoughtfully and then said, "It's really good with us. It just blows my mind how much better my life is with her in it. I guess that's why I keep pushing you about Eames. I think she'd be really good for you, and the work thing hasn't been a big deal for me and Carolyn at all, so I know the two of you could work through it, too."

The words were right on the tip of my tongue.

_I **am** in love with Alex. And I **am** sleeping with her._

Because his sincerity about wanting me to be happy is just about doing me in.

Not to mention that we seem to have so much more in common than I ever suspected.

I know _exactly_ how he feels about his life being better, and how he's a little afraid that she's going to have a reality check one of these days about the fact that she can do better. And how scary it was to put it all on the line and tell her how he feels, but how he had to do it because he couldn't think about anything else…it's almost like he's telling me about _my_ life, even though it's his.

"Okay, here's the thing," I began, and then I heard the door to the bar open, and I don't even have to look to know that it's her.

I just know.

And the accompanying feeling that goes along with the knowledge that any second she's going to kiss me hello and hold my hand in hers and look at me with those amber eyes…

I'm not sure I'm just in love with her.

I think there has to be something _more, _a better descriptive to capture how I feel.

"I think I changed my mind," I said as I watched Alex over Logan's shoulder. She was weaving her way through the crowd, just ahead of Carolyn, and after watching her for a second, she looked up and her eyes met mine. And if she isn't just the most beautiful woman…

"About what?" he asked me, oblivious to my distraction.

I glanced at him briefly as I said, "I'm ready to make a move on the sure thing."

"Really?" he asked in surprise. "Come on, Bobby. You know I was only egging you on."

"I know. But you're right. I need someone like her in my life."

"Someone like her in your life?" he practically shouted, now sounding worried. "Jeez, Goren, I was only talking about sex. And I was _kidding_! "

"Maybe you were, but I'm not. It's what I want."

He leaned forward, looking past me towards the girl two stools over, and said, "I don't think…"

"Only not with her," I interrupted.

"Then who?" he asked, his eyes narrowing as he finally caught on to the fact that my gaze was on someone else.

He turned around in his chair just as Alex got to us, and the look on his face was priceless as I took hold of Alex's hand and said, "Her."

TBC...


	8. Chapter 8

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>"I'm telling you. It was huge."<p>

Carolyn raised an eyebrow at my statement, and I chuckled as I picked up my glass, taking a sip before continuing to say, "I know. It's not like me to be scared of anything, but when I saw the size of it…"

"What'd you do?" she asked in amusement.

"Well, I wanted to scream," I admitted, still laughing lightly. "But I didn't, so I consider _that_ an accomplishment. But I did go find Deakins and tell him to get an exterminator in there. Because if I see another rat like that, I might have to request a transfer."

"I hear you on that," she agreed, shaking her head. "It's bad enough that we've got cockroaches in the property room, but rats are another story."

Carolyn and I were catching up on our respective weeks, sharing a pitcher of margaritas in a bar a few blocks away from where Bobby and Logan are downing a few beers.

When I asked her initially, I suggested that we meet for a while, and then I'd go home so that she could have some time with Logan.

Of course, as soon as I tell her the truth, then she and I can _both_ go catch up with the guys and maybe have a late dinner.

I'm pretty surprised that I actually made it through the whole week without telling Carolyn about us. Especially considering that I was itching to call her on Saturday afternoon.

But Bobby and I had our date Saturday night.

And then he spent the night at my place.

On Sunday, we didn't do much of anything, but we were together all day, so it's not like I was going to take a break from our down-time togetherness in order to regale Carolyn with stories about our sexual exploits.

And then she and Logan caught a case on Monday, so for most of the week, we didn't see much of them, which made it a little easier to keep up the ruse.

Not that it's a big deal, because we definitely plan to tell them.

But I always enjoy teasing Logan, so it's been fun to draw it out.

"_So…how are things_?" he asked me when I got to work Monday morning.

"_Fine_," I answered with a shrug. "_How are things with you?"_

"_I mean, with…you know,"_ he responded, nodding his head towards where Bobby had just walked into the squad room.

"_I apologized. We're good_," I told him. And then I smiled and said, "_In fact, we're banging away like pros."_

He barked out a laugh, and said, "_I knew it."_

"_Knew what?"_

"_You and him_," he said smugly.

"_Yeah, we're partners. That's not news, Logan. We've been together for six years."_

"_That's not what I meant."_

"_Well it's what __**I **__meant, so get your mind out of the gutter_."

"_Logan, Barek!"_ Deakins had called out as he stood in his office doorway.

"_You're up,"_ I told him with a smirk as I headed towards my desk.

"_You can run, but you can't hide_," he retorted with a grin, and then he'd snagged his partner and together they went into the captain's office for their assignment.

After that, our paths only crossed randomly, so it was easy to maintain my denial.

"So how's your case coming?" I asked Carolyn as she poured more of the frothy drink into her glass.

"We made a nice break this afternoon. Carver thinks he can get us a warrant, but our main suspect is currently away on business, so we plan to meet him at the airport when he returns Monday morning."

"Welcome home," I said with a smile.

"Exactly. What about you? Did you guys catch anything this week?"

"A sore ass from sitting in my chair for forty hours," I replied.

She chuckled at me, but then said, "It gave you and Goren a chance to talk, though, right? Clear the air?"

"It did," I agreed. "Everything's good."

"So…anything besides a rat make you want to scream lately?" she asked me coyly.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I answered with a barely-contained smile.

"You went over there, didn't you? To his place. Last Friday."

"I did," I said with a nod. "And I apologized."

"And?"

"He accepted it," I replied vaguely.

"_And_?"

It's funny because as much as I had the urge to tell her details last Saturday, now I suddenly feel weird about saying anything at all.

I mean, we've only very recently become friends.

And I _want_ to tell her, I really do, but actually saying the words feels strange.

"Well, since you didn't immediately say _and nothing_, I'm going to assume there's more to tell," she stated astutely. "So drink up and then spill it."

"While I drink, you tell me how things are going with you and Logan. Did you decide to tell him how you feel?"

She paused with her glass midway to her lips, smiling broadly as she said, "I did, yes. But only because he said it first. I mean, I _feel_ it. I told you that. But I wasn't going to tell him because I thought it was too soon."

"So he told you that he loves you?"

"Uh huh. Knocked my socks off. And we weren't even…I mean, it wasn't in the heat of the moment of anything. We were just talking and…then he said it."

She took a sip of her drink and then asked, "Can I tell you something? Something private, I mean."

"You mean something more private than the fact that you're sleeping with your partner?" I joked, not immediately picking up on her seriousness, but then I noticed her expression and I added, "Of course you can. Shoot."

But I wasn't prepared for what she had to say.

"I'm not sure how much longer I'm going to be working for the NYPD."

"What? Why? Because of your relationship?" I asked, nearly in a panic.

_Was their partnership falling apart already?_

"No," she answered quickly. "Not at all. In fact, right now, Mike's the reason why I'm thinking of staying. I just…I got an offer from the ATF. A really good offer. I'll be in charge of my own team."

"Oh," I said thoughtfully, still recovering from my misconception. "Um…congratulations. That's pretty impressive. In New York?"

"Uh huh. And thanks. You know, I actually applied for the position before I got Major Case. It took so long to hear back from them, I just assumed I didn't get it. But I got the call a couple of days ago."

"What does Logan say?"

"He says I need to take him out of the equation and go with whichever job is going to make me happier."

"Easier said than done," I commiserated, feeling extremely proud of Logan for responding so maturely. "Which way are you leaning?"

"The ATF job is what I've been after since I started in law enforcement," she admitted. "And if it weren't for Mike, I would've said yes in a heartbeat. But he has some confidence issues, you know? And I don't want him to think that I'm leaving _him_…I don't want things to change between us."

"Either way, they're going to change. He'll feel like he held you back from an opportunity, if you don't take it," I pointed out. "You have to go with your head on this one. If you want the job, take it. You and Logan love each other. And you'll still be in the city. It'll work out."

"I know," she said with a nod. Then she finished off her drink and looked at me and said, "Have you had enough yet? Because I'm in the mood to talk about something a little more upbeat."

"Such as?"

"Such as what happened after you and Goren kissed and made up."

"Well, actually," I began with a grin. "You've got it backwards. We made up. And _then_ we kissed."

"And then…up against the wall in the hallway?" she asked in amusement.

"No," I said on a laugh. I picked up my glass, swirling around the remnants of green liquid, and then I dropped my voice and said, "On the kitchen table."

My confession sent the conversation into overdrive, and I learned that it wasn't so hard after all.

Talking to her about it, I mean.

And no, I didn't give details. Not too many, anyway.

But it felt good to share with a girlfriend, and it's a feeling I haven't had since high school when my sister and I both joined the ranks of the sexually active within a few weeks of each other and so then we compared notes on the matter.

As we started on more in-depth conversation and our second pitcher of margaritas, Carolyn's phone buzzed.

"No texting Logan," I instructed.

"Why not?"

"He still doesn't know. I figured we could meet up with them in a little bit, and then I'll tell him."

"Oh, he already knows," she countered.

"He _thinks_ he knows. He's been trying to trick a confession out of us all week."

She laughed as she nodded and said, "I know. He keeps talking about it. But you know, I think it's sweet. He really thinks a lot of Goren. Of both of you, really. And he wants you two to be happy."

"Well, we are," I said with seriousness. "It's a little mind-boggling."

"That you're happy?" she asked with curiosity.

"That it's been so easy. I've kind of been waiting for the other shoe, you know?"

"You've already worked out the kinks with each other," she said reasonably. "You know what the other is thinking without anything having to be said. If there were any area that might cause you trouble, it would be in the bedroom, since that's the only new territory."

"No problems there," I confirmed quickly.

"And do you talk about things other than work?" she asked. "We had a little trouble with that at first. I think it's like when a husband and wife finally get a babysitter so that they can go out for the evening, and then they spend the entire time talking about the kid. It's hard to tap into other areas of compatibility."

I nodded thoughtfully, thinking about our date last weekend.

It _did_ feel a little strange at first.

I wanted it to be different than the hundreds of times Bobby and I have eaten dinner together, while working on a case, and of course it _was_ different because he's never once held my hand during dinner before, but still…that's why I proposed the little game of _let's see what we know about each other_.

And then he had to go and say something so unbelievably sweet and romantic…

"_Then you need to ask me if you're so insanely beautiful that I can't take my eyes off of you. Ask me that, and I'll say yes."_

And then he kissed me.

_That's_ never happened during work-dinners either.

His kiss served to both relax and excite me. An odd combination, and yet fitting because I'm more comfortable around Bobby than any other person in the world, and yet he manages to get me so aroused, so _hot_ that I can't think straight.

"You're smiling," Carolyn stated.

"I'm…yeah," I said on a laugh. "Sorry, I was just thinking."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Oh, it's nothing, really. Bobby insisted on taking me on a date, like a real date, so Saturday night, we went to dinner. And like you said, at first it was hard to think of what to talk about. We had to get creative."

"Creativity is always good," she replied with a smile. "How'd it work for you?"

"Really, really well."

And it did.

Bobby had me laughing within minutes, spouting off answers to unasked questions.

"_Red. ABBA. And depending on who asks, either __**Rear Window**__ or __**Goodfellas**_."

"_Are you sure about that?"_

"_Absolutely,"_ he said with a confident grin. "_And I'm not done. You prefer movies to books, but only because you hate getting bogged down in the tedious details written by self-indulgent authors. And despite that preference, you've still read all the greats just because you felt like you should. You prefer jeans to dress pants. Silk to cotton. Dogs, not cats. Classic muscle cars. Oh, and at one time, probably during college, you were a smoker."_

I think I stared at him for a solid minute after he finished his assessment, but then I had to protest.

"_A smoker? Where the hell did you come up with that?"_

"_So everything else is dead-on, right?_" he asked smugly.

"_Well…yeah. But you knew that."_

"_Yes, I did. Because I know you,"_ he answered, once again leaning over to kiss me.

I could most definitely get used to his affectionate mannerisms.

"_You do,"_ I agreed quietly once he sat back in his chair. "_And yes, I smoked in college, but only for about one semester. How did you know that?"_

"_It's the look on your face the times I've lit up around you. Almost like you __**wanted **__to join me, but you knew you shouldn't, and you didn't __**really**__ want to, but…"_

"_Yeah, yeah. What else is in that profile you've amassed on me?"_ I teased.

"_Well, I'm still building on it, you know. I've recently been gathering new information_," he said in a low voice as he traced his finger over the inside of my wrist. "_What makes you moan…what makes you scream out my name…"_

"_I don't think I've done that yet."_

He grinned broadly and said, "_No, but the night is young."_

And he was right about that.

Even though we stayed out much later than I expected, just because we were enjoying each other's company so much, when we went back to my apartment, it was almost like we never left. The desire and intensity was instantaneous and insanely passionate and we didn't even make it into the bedroom.

Instead, we made love - quite vigorously, I might add – on the couch.

And I _did_ scream out his name, because oh my God, it was like every time, it gets better and better, and considering that I thought the _first_ time was absolutely perfect, that's saying a lot.

And that theory played out accurately throughout the week as we continued to enthusiastically wear each other out.

"So you had a date on Saturday…how has it been since then? Have you been spending a lot of time together?" Carolyn asked me.

"We've been spending _all_ of our time together. After work, we either go to my place or his place."

"And that's a good thing, right?"

"It's almost too good. It's not my style to be so…so…attached. I like my alone time, and yet I haven't wanted any."

She nodded knowingly and said, "That's me, too. I'm even _sleeping_ with Mike, and that's never happened before."

Her phone buzzed again, and I checked my watch.

Nine forty-five.

"Tell him you'll text him when we're done," I suggested. "And then we can pay up and walk over there."

"You want me to lie to the man I love," she joked, shaking her head as she typed in her response. "You should be ashamed of yourself, Alex."

"Hey, he started this," I replied with a grin. "With that whole _Eames left her badge _thing."

"You think he couldn't read the telltale signs on Goren's face? I knew the moment I saw you Monday morning."

"Great. So I'm wearing an _I just got fucked_ sign around my neck?"

She laughed as she put her phone away and waved to the waitress, and then she said, "Don't worry. At least it doesn't say _I just got fucked __**by Goren**_. We only know because we know. Your secret's safe. And honestly, I don't think Deakins really cares anyway. He just wants detectives who work well together."

She's probably right about that, and I suppose if we made it through the first week, sitting in the squad room all day, every day, and he hasn't noticed, then we'll be fine.

We paid our tab and left the bar, walking the three blocks to the pub where Bobby and Logan were engaging in guy-talk.

I can't help but wonder if Bobby managed to hold out, because Logan can be pretty persistent, and sitting in a bar with him for a couple of hours was probably something like being in an interrogation room.

The place was crowded and it took me a moment to spot Bobby, sitting up at the bar, but as soon as I did, I made my way towards him, and as I cleared some of the crowd, I looked up and found him watching me.

Logan was looking the other way, and I could see Bobby saying something to him, but I was still too far away to hear the words.

He kept his eyes on me, regarding me with undisguised lust, and I had the ridiculous urge to drag him into the ladies' room for a quickie…or hell, maybe even just do it right here in the bar.

See what the man does to me?

I lose all rational thought just from his intense gaze that sparks my imagination about what he'll do to me later when we're alone.

I finally made it to the bar, and Bobby took hold of my hand as he said, "Her."

I'm not sure what question prompted that response, but judging by the look on Logan's face as soon as he laid eyes on me, I can probably guess.

I ignored his shock, though, instead most likely compounding upon it as I slipped my free hand around to the back of Bobby's head and gave him a proper hello kiss. I mean, it _has_ been a few hours since we've seen each other.

"I don't know who you two thought you were fooling," I heard Logan say, and when I finally forced myself to pull back from Bobby, I turned to look at him and found him grinning broadly, his arm wrapped around Carolyn's waist.

"You," I replied.

"Please," he said dismissively. "I've known since I met you guys, but I knew for sure when I walked into Goren's apartment last weekend."

"Told you," Carolyn said to me with a smile.

"She told you what?" Bobby asked me.

"Just admit it, Goren. I was right all along," Logan insisted.

"I'll admit _that_ if you'll admit that I had you a little worried a few minutes ago," Bobby fired back.

"About the sure thing?"

"What sure thing?" I asked.

"The Jolie wannabe over there," Logan said, nodding his head towards a woman down the bar. "I was trying to get him to buy her a drink."

"Thanks, Logan. I appreciate that," I said dryly.

"As a means of getting a confession," he clarified. "And he said no, and then all of a sudden he said he'd changed his mind."

"But not about her," Bobby added quickly, squeezing my hand. "I said that _after_ I saw you."

"Uh huh. I'm not sure you two are allowed to hang out together unsupervised," I said.

"Fine by me," Logan answered as he reached over and touched Carolyn on the cheek before tucking a stray piece of hair back behind her ear.

She smiled back at him, and for a moment, I can't help but wonder what's going to happen to them if she takes that job with ATF.

Will they still have _this_?

_Yes_, I decided firmly.

Because to say no would suggest that they're only together _because_ of their jobs rather than in spite of them.

"Me, too," Bobby stated, agreeing with Logan to no more boys-only nights out at the bar.

And of course, I'm only kidding about that.

I've trusted Bobby for years. I'm certainly not going to stop now.

"We might decide to let you out on good behavior from time to time," I said.

"Maybe," Carolyn added. "So…should we get a table?"

We did, and we spent the next few hours having absolutely the best double-date I've ever had in my life.

"We have to do that again," I said to Bobby as we rode the elevator up to his apartment.

"Yeah, it was a lot of fun," he agreed, stepping into me as he wrapped his arms around me. "I think for a few random minutes, I actually managed to forget about how desperately I want to get you home."

"We're almost there now," I pointed out.

"And not a moment too soon," he replied. He leaned down and worked his lips over my neck as he ran his hands down over my backside, squeezing me closer to him.

The elevator pinged, signaling its arrival on the fourth floor, but I wasn't in any hurry to move because he'd moved his mouth up to my ear and he was using his teeth lightly on my ear lobe…

_But we can't get naked in the elevator_, I reminded myself with practicality.

Well, we _can_, but…

"Come on," I finally managed to say, and together we hustled down the hall to his door, where it took an inordinate amount of time for him to get the key into the lock.

Probably because while he was doing that, I was behind him, with my arms around him, working to undo his belt buckle.

And his zipper.

By the time we got inside, I had his pants completely undone and I shoved them to the floor as he reached behind him to flip the lock.

I barely waited for him to finish before tugging on his jacket, encouraging him to hurry up and take it off.

I can't help myself.

He's got me too worked up.

And it's not like he's fighting me on this.

The biggest disagreement we seem to be having at the moment is whose clothes need to come off first because while I got to work unbuttoning his shirt, he was making short work of my sweater and jeans.

"Bobby," I said in frustration as I tried to pull off his t-shirt while his hands were unhooking my bra. "Raise your arms."

"Just a second," he responded, his fingers fumbling uncharacteristically with the hooks.

I started to argue, but then I let go of his shirt and took hold of his boxers instead, shoving them down off his hips until they fell to the floor, and then I immediately ran my hand over him.

His hands faltered momentarily, but then he started again with renewed vigor while simultaneously bringing his mouth to mine for a searing kiss that caused _my_ hands to falter.

Despite our apparent lack of motor skills, we managed to finish the pleasurable task of undressing each other, and as the last garment fell to the floor, he picked me up, wrapping his arms around me and turning us around until my back was up against the front door.

Because yeah, that's all the further we managed to get.

No big surprise really, because we've been teasing each other all night with suggestive looks and teasing touches.

I wrapped my legs around him as he held me against the door, his lips once again in the vicinity of my ear, and I'm so close already…even after a week with Bobby, and the countless times we've made love, it still amazes me how quickly he can bring me right to that edge.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice barely more than a rumble. "God, I love you so much."

And as he said the words, he pushed into me in one long, solid stroke, and that was all it took.

Wave after wave of heavenly sensations rolled through me while Bobby held still, only lightly working his lips over my throat.

After a moment, he said in a teasing voice, "You _are_ easy, aren't you?"

Of course, I had to laugh. So did he, so we stood there like that for another minute, just chuckling at each other.

"No, I'm not," I said at last. "Because I'm not done. Are you?"

Challenge extended.

And no, he wasn't anywhere close to being done.

And it was probably nearly an hour later before we were comfortably settled in the bed.

"I don't think I said it earlier, but you know I love you, too, right?" I said as he molded his body against mine, his front to my back.

"I think you were a little busy at the moment, but yeah…I know. And is it just me, or are you kind of waiting for things to break wide open?"

"The other shoe," I said knowingly. "It's not just you. I said that to Carolyn earlier tonight. It's just all going so well."

"Something will happen at some point," he said carefully. "You know that, right?"

"It always does. But we'll work it out," I replied confidently. "We're too good at this not to."

He hummed his agreement as he stroked his fingers over my hip.

"So what do you think Carolyn should do?" I asked him after another minute.

She'd brought it up over dinner, so he was up to speed on her job offer.

"She should take it. It'll be an adjustment for her and Logan, not working together, but if she doesn't take it, she'll regret it."

"He'll have to get a new partner. I feel sorry for him already."

"Yeah, me, too," he agreed. "You know, that might be us one of these days."

"Did you apply to the ATF?" I asked, teasing in an effort to avoid that sinking feeling in my stomach.

"No," he answered quickly. "I mean, one day you'll be offered a captain's spot."

"Bobby, I really don't see that happening."

"Maybe you don't, but I do. And when it does, I'll want you to take it."

"I don't know," I said thoughtfully, both pleased by his subtle compliment, and distressed by the idea of someday _not_ being his partner.

"Hey, we'll just enjoy working together as long as we can," he said reasonably while his fingers continued teasing my skin. "And when that changes, we'll enjoy what our life becomes at that point. Because we'll still be _together_, even if we aren't together at work."

I turned in his arms, kissing him soundly before saying playfully, "Wow, you know, that sounds awfully mature."

"I know," he said with a grin. "Scary isn't it?"

I kissed him again, enjoying the leisurely comfort of kissing simply for the sake of kissing.

And then the sound of a ringing cell phone interrupted our peacefulness.

"Yours or mine?" I asked as I moved to get up from the bed.

"I think it's yours. Where is it?"

"Probably still clipped to my pants, by the front door," I answered. "Don't get up. I'll bring it to you, if it's yours."

But it was mine.

And it was our captain.

"Eames, I've got one for you. Unless you want to keep riding that desk."

"Are you kidding me?" I replied, my mind immediately focused because a week is a long time to go without a case, and I'm anxious to get back to it.

I have a feeling he had us sidelined so that we could have the time to repair any damage done by that jackass Judge Garrett.

_If he only knew how well we've recovered from that…_

"What is it?" I continued, biting back a gasp as Bobby came up behind me and slid his hands around my waist.

"Dead computer whiz involved in some kind of top secret research. Call Bobby and get out there as soon as you can, okay?"

"Yes, sir. I'll brief you after we've had time to assess the scene."

He rattled off the address, which I committed to memory, and then I hung up with our boss and swatted lightly at Bobby's hands.

"You can't do that when I'm on the phone with Deakins," I admonished good-naturedly.

"He doesn't have to know it's _my_ hands causing you to moan into the phone," he joked.

"Bobby…"

"Got it. No inappropriate touching while the boss is within earshot."

"Good," I said, turning around to give him a kiss. "Now get dressed. We've got a case."

**The End**

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Big thanks to guitar73girl for her bang-up beta work.**


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